THE  LIBRARY'' 
OF      ^ 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 
EDWIN  CORLE 

PRESENTED  BY 
JEAN  CORLE 


THE   AMERICANS 


THE  AMERICANS 


By 

EDWIN  DAVIES  SCHOONMAKER 


NEW  YORK 

MITCHELL  KENNERLEY 
1913 


COPYRIGHT    1913    BY    MITCHELL    KENNERLEY 


PRESS  OF  J.  J.  LITTLE  &  IVES  COMPANY,  NEW  YORK 


To  MY  FATHER  AND  MY  BROTHER  FRANK 


AUTHOR'S  NOTE 

The  drama  here  published  is  logically  the  third  in 
3  series  of  racial  dramas,  as  follows: 

1.  The  Saxons 

2.  The  Slavs 

3.  The  Americans 

4.  The  Hindoos 

Of  this  series  The  Saxons,  dealing  with  man's  strug- 
gle for  religious  liberty,  has  already  been  published. 
For  reasons  that  need  not  be  given,  it  has  been  thought 
best  to  postpone  The  Slavs,  which  will  present  man's 
battle  for  political  liberty,  and  offer  The  Americans, 
the  theme  of  which  is  the  industrial  conflict  that  is 
now  raging.  The  Hindoos,  a  drama  of  spiritual  un- 
foldment,  will  come  in  its  order. 


PERSONS  OF  THE  DRAMA 

J.  DONALD  EGERTQN      Lumber  king  and  mill-owner 
AUGUSTUS  JERGENS  A  partner 

SAM  WILLIAMS  Leader  of  the  strikers 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE      In  command  of  the  State 

Militia 

CAPTAIN  HASKELL  Second  in  command 

REV.  EZRA  HARDBROOKE  Bishop  of  the  Diocese 

JOHN  W.  BRADDOCK  Governor  of  the  State 

RALPH  ARDSLEY  Editor  of  the  Foreston  Courier 

CHIEF  OF  POLICE  Cooperating  with  the  Militia 

GEORGE  EGERTON  Son  of  Donald  Egerton 

HARRY  EGERTON  Son  of  Donald  Egerton 

HARVEY  ANDERSON  Former  cowboy  and  Rough 

Rider 

BUCK  BENTLEY  One  of  the  Militia 

WES  DICEY  A  walking  delegate 

JIM  KING  Supporter  of  Dicey 

ROME  MASTERS  Supporter  of  Dicey 

CAP  SAUNDERS  An  old  miner 

BILL  PATTEN  Striker,  off  in  search  of  work 

SILAS  MAURY  Striker,  off  in  search  of  work 

WILLIE  MAURY  Son  of  Silas  Maury 

MARY  EGERTON  Wife  of  Donald  Egerton 

GLADYS  EGERTON  Daughter  of  Donald  Egerton 

SYLVIA  ORR  Friend  of  Mrs.  Egerton 

A  chauffeur,  a  butler,  a  doctor,  a  nurse,  two  maids, 
two  detectives,  two  sentries,  strikers,  strike-breakers, 
militiamen,  guests  at  the  reception,  etc. 
9 


A  land  is  not  its  timber  but  its  people, 
And  not  its  Art,  my  father,  but  its  men. 

— HARRY  EGERTON. 


10 


THE    AMERICANS 

ACT  I 

THE    MINE 

Scene:  On  the  mountains  in  a  timber  region  of 
north-western  America.  In  every  direction,  as  far  as 
the  eye  can  see,  a  wilderness  of  stumps  with  piles  of 
brush  black  with  age  and  sinking  from  sheer  rotten- 
ness into  the  ground.  Here  and  there  a  dead  pine 
stands  up  high  against  the  horizon.  In  the  distance, 
left,  cleaving  the  range  and  extending  on  back  under 
an  horizon  of  cold  gray  clouds,  is  seen  the  line  of  a 
river  of  which  this  whole  region  is  apparently  the 
watershed,  for  everywhere  the  land  slopes  toward  it. 
In  the  remote  distance,  beyond  the  river,  innumerable 
bare  buttes,  and  beyond  these  a  gray  stretch  of  plains. 
Down  the  mountains,  left,  six  or  seven  miles  away, 
the  river  loops  in  and  a  portion  of  a  town  is  seen  upon 
its  banks.  At  this  end  of  the  town,  upon  a  hill  over- 
looking the  river,  a  large  white  mansion  conspicuous 
for  the  timber  about  it.  At  the  farther  end,  a  huge 
red  saw-mill  occupies  the  centre  of  a  vast  field  of  yel- 
low lumber  piles,  the  tall  black  stack  of  the  mill 
clearly  outlined  against  the  gray  of  the  land  beyond. 

Back,  a  hundred  yards  or  so,  a  road,  evidently  con- 
structed years  ago  when  the  logs  were  being  taken  out, 
comes  up  on  the  flats  from  the  direction  of  the  town, 
II 


The  Americans 


turns  sharply  to  the  right  and  goes  toward  the  ridge. 
Beyond  this  road,  just  at  the  curve,  standing  out 
among  the  stumps,  an  old  stationary  engine  eaten  up 
with  rust  and  an  abandoned  logging-wagon,  the  hind 
part  resting  upon  the  ground,  the  two  heavy  wheels 
lying  upon  it.  Farther  back  a  small  cabin  falling  into 
decay.  Here  and  there  patches  of  creeping  vines  and 
rank  grass  cover  the  ground,  hiding  in  some  places  to 
a  considerable  depth  the  bases  of  the  stumps.  But  to 
the  left,  where  it  is  evident  a  steep  slope  plunges  down, 
and  also  in  the  foreground,  are  open  spaces  with  boul- 
ders and,  scattered  about  under  a  thin  loam  of  rotted 
needles  and  black  cones,  the  outlines  of  a  few  flat 
stones.  In  the  immediate  foreground,  left,  a  huge 
boulder,  weighing  possibly  four  or  five  tons,  barely 
hangs  upon  the  slope,  ready  at  any  moment,  one  would 
think,  to  slip  and  plunge  down. 

Two  men,  Cap  Sounders  and  Harvey  Anderson,  the 
latter  down  left,  the  former  to  the  right  and  farther 
back,  are  sloivly  coming  forward.  Each  has  a  camp- 
ing outfit,  a  roll  of  blankets,  etc.,  upon  his  back,  and 
carries  in  his  hands  a  plaster  cast  of  what  would  seem 
to  be  a  cross-section  of  a  log.  It  is  about  two  feet  in 
diameter  and  three  inches  thick.  As  they  come  along 
they  try  the  casts  on  the  various  stumps  and  carefully 
turn  them  about  to  see  if  they  fit,  then  chip  the  stump 
with  a  hatchet  to  indicate  that  it  has  been  tried. 

Time:  The  evening  of  a  day  early  in  November  in 
the  present  time. 

12 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
And  say  two  dollars  profit  on  each  log. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 
That's  low  enough. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Suppose  a  man  could  walk 
Over  the  mountains  with  a  great  big  sack 
And  pick  two  silver  dollars  from  each  stump. 
It's  forty  miles  to  where  the  trees  begin, 
And  on  each  side  the  river  eight  or  ten. 
Think  what  he'd  have. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

He's  made  work  for  them,  Harvey. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Have  millions,  wouldn't  he? 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

I  suppose  he  would. 
But  where  would  this  land   be?     There'd   be  no 

homes. 
And  what  are  forests  for  but  to  cut  down? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

You  wouldn't  hear  him  say,  'Now,  Harvey,  you 
Go  in  and  get  your  sack  full;  I'll  stay  out'; 
13 


The  Americans 


Or,  'Now  it's  your  turn,  Cap.'    Not  on  your  life. 
He'd  walk  his  legs  off,  but  he'd  have  them  all. 
Or  what's  more  likely,  he'd  let  others  walk, 
And  send  his  wagons  out  and  get  the  sacks 
And  have  them  brought  in  to  him. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

For  myself 

I'd  rather  be  out  here  though  on  the  mountains 
Than  live  in  his  big  mansion. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

So  would  I. 

But  that  don't  mean  I'd  rather  tramp  the  flats 
Picking  up  dollars  for  some  other  man. 
And  I  suppose  the  mill-boys  feel  the  same. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

A  fellow  has  to  do  the  best  he  can. 

If  he  can  stake  himself,  then  off,  I  say, 

And  pan  for  his  own  self.    That's  been  my  way. 

Sometimes  I've  struck  pay  dirt  and  sometimes  not. 

And  then  I'd  go  and  dig  for  a  month  or  two 

For  the  other  boys  until  I'd  got  my  stake 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Here  is  another  like  the  one  back  there; 
Goes  half  way  round  as  clean  as  anything; 

And  the  bark  seems  the  same;  but  on  this  side 

14 


The  Americans 


CAP  SAUNDERS. 

(Who  has  left  his  cast  and  is  hurrying  forward 

excitedly  ) 
Hold  her  a  minute! 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

No,  it  don't  fit,  Cap. 

The  same  old  finger  width  it's  always  been. 
When  the  curve  matches,  then  there's  some  damn 

knot  ; 

And  when  the  knot's  not  there,  it's  something  else. 
No,  you  can't  stretch  it.    Now  it's  this  side;  see? 
'Twas  best  the  way  I  had  it.    There  you  are. 
Might  as  well  mark  her. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

It's  a  close  miss,  sure. 
It's  like  the  one  I  found  upon  the  ridge 
Week  before  last. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

The  place  where  it  don't  match 
Is  always  on  the  side  that  you  don't  see 
Until  your  heart's  jumped  up. 
(Chips  the  stump) 

That  ends  the  day. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

I  think  I'll  work  a  while. 
(Starts  back) 

15 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
The  sun's  gone  down. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

I  haven't  heard  the  whistle  of  the  mill. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Nor  like  to. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

Ah!  I  keep  forgetting  that. 

When  a  man's  heard  her  blow  for  years  and  years 
He  can't  be  always  thinking  that  she's  stopped. 
I  wonder  how  the  strike  is  getting  on. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

As  everything  gets  on  that's  Egerton's. 
He'll  cut  them  down  as  he's  cut  down  the  trees. 
(Sits  upon  a  stump  and  looks  off  up  the  valley, 
then  turns  and  watches  the  old  man  busy  with 
his  cast) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Your  old  bones  must  be  tired,  Cap. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 
How  so  ? 


16 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

How  long  have  you  been  hunting  for  this  thing? 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

Before  this  search,  you  mean? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Yes. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

Off  and  on, 
Thirty  or  forty  years. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
And  won't  give  up? 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 
Not  till  I'm  dead. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

You  ought  to  have  been  an  ox. 
You've    got    the    wrong    form,  Cap.     You    think 

you'd  be 
As  patient  if  the  prize  was  for  yourself? 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

When  one's  been  on  a  trail  for  years  and  years 
It  ain't  the  game  he  cares  for;  it's  the  chase. 
And  like  as  not  when  he's  brought  down  the  buck 
17 


The  Americans 


He'll  leave  the  carcass  lying  on  the  rocks, 
Taking  a  piece  or  two,  then  off  again. 
As  for  what's  done  with  it,  I  don't  care  that. 
But  I  would  like  to  know  where  that  tree  stood. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

And  you  think  the  boys  down  there  should  be  the 

same, 

The  boys  that  saw  the  dollars  from  the  logs, 
Sacking  the  silver  up,  be  satisfied 
To  have  him  take  the  silver,  leaving  them 
The  bark  on  either  side? 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 
I  don't  say  that. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Give  me  the  carcass  when  you  find  it,  Cap, 
And  you  can  have  the  chase.    I'd  like  to  know 
For  one  time  in  my  life  just  how  it  feels 
To  have  your  pockets  full  and  taste  the  towns. 
And  I  think  the  boys  that  saw  the  logs  down  there 
Are  more  like  me,  Cap,  than  they  are  like  you. 
(Picks  up  his  cast  and  comes  forward) 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

Egerton  ain't  a-holdin'  them.    They  can  go 
If  they  ain't  satisfied. 

18 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Yes,  they  can  go. 
They're  like  the  red  men,  they  can  always  go. 

(In  an  open  space  in  the  foreground  he  puts  his 
things  down  upon  the  ground.  He  goes  right 
to  a  pile  of  brush,  pulls  out  a  black  limb,  and 
proceeds  to  break  it  across  his  knee,  throwing 
the  pieces  in  a  little  heap  upon  the  ground) 

They've  got  a  Mayor  down  there,  I  suppose. 
What  if  he  said,  'If  you  don't  like  my  way, 
If  you  ain't  satisfied,  there's  the  road  off  there?' 
Or  say  the  lad  we've  got  in  Washington — 
What  if  he  said,  'If  you  don't  like  my  way, 
There's  ships  there  in   the  harbor?'     Think  we'd 

leave  ? 

You've  had  your  eyes,  Cap,  on  the  ground  so  long 
That  you've  forgotten  there's  such  things  as  men. 

(The  old  man  comes  down  to  the  stump  which 
he  and  Anderson  tried  earlier  in  the  scene.  An- 
derson picks  up  his  kindling  and  goes  left  and 
proceeds  to  start  a  fire.  The  night  gathers 
quickly  ) 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

(Trying  the  stump) 

Be  careful,  Harvey,  or  they'll  see  the  flame 
And  think  it's  found  already. 
19 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

I  don't  care. 
'Twould  serve  them  right. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

They're  watching  at  this  hour. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

'Now  we've  got  millions!'  then  say  'April  Fool.' 
God,  I  don't  blame  them  though;  I'd  do  it  too. 
(Picks  up  a  blanket  and,  sticking  pieces  of  brush 
in  the  ground,  hangs  it  between  the  fire  and  the 
town) 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

Aug.  Jergens  he'd  be  mighty  mad,  I  tell  you. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

If  I  could  put  men  out,  you  bet  I  would. 

And  when  I  found  the  gold  I'd  make  her  fly. 

You  wouldn't  catch  me  quarrelling  with  a  lot 

Of  fellows  for  the  bones,  I  tell  you  that. 

I'd  take  a  rump  or  two,  then  say,  'Light  in 

And  fill  your  bellies';  or,  'Come  on;  I'm  rich; 

Let's  take  a  turn  together.'    And  I'd  buy 

A  train  or  two  and  we'd  all  take  a  spin 

Around  the  world.     I'd  make  their  hair  stand  up. 

I'd  show  those  eastern  fellows  once  or  twice. 

(Goes  left  and  climbs  up  on  the  boulder  and  looks 
back  over  the  waste) 
2O 


The  Americans 


CAP  SAUNDERS. 

(Coming  forward} 
You'll  have  that  rolling  down  if  you  don't  mind. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

And  that's  one  reason  I'll  be  always  broke, 

For  I  know  how  to  spend,  while  Egerton 

And  Jergens  and  those  fellows  down  there  don't, 

In  spite  of  their  big  houses.    They  know  how 

To  quarrel  with  men  and  squeeze  their  last  dime 

out, 

But  they  don't  know  how  to  say,  'By  God,  come  on  ; 
Let's  have  a  drink  together;  we're  all  friends.' 
( The  old  man  busies  himself  about  the  fire,  pre- 
paring the  evening  meal.     Anderson  sits  down 
on   the   boulder  and  looks   off   up    the   valley. 
Where  the  town  was  seen,  lights  begin  to  ap- 
pear} 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

You'll  wake  up  some  day,  Cap,  and  look  about 
And  Harvey  will  be  gone. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

You  don't  mean  that! 
You  ain't  took  no  offence  at  what  I  said? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Mad  as  the  Devil,  Cap. 
21 


The  Americans 


CAP  SAUNDERS. 

Don't  you  know,  Harvey, 
About  the  rolling  stone? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

There's  some  stones,  Cap, 
Would  rather  have  the  motion  than  the  moss. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

You're  sure  a  wild  one,  Harvey;  that  you  are. 
You'd  stir  a  muss  up,  that's  what  you  would  do. 
(Goes  to  the  boulder  and  stands  beside  Anderson, 
and  they  both  look  off  up  the  valley) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

The  mansion  all  lit  up — what's  going  on? 

(They  are  silent} 

It's  a  strange  world,  Cap,  it's  a  funny  world. 
You  throw  a  piece  of  bread  down ;  it  draws  ants, 
Red  ants  and  black  ants,  little  ants  and  big, 
And  if  you'll  keep  it  up  you'll  have  them  here 
Building  their  hills  about  you;  you  know  that. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

(Returning  to  the  fire) 
It's  wonderful  how  much  some  men  can  do. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Well,  men  are  ants,  and  Egerton  he's  had  bread. 
And  he's  kept  throwing  it  down  there  in  the  valley, 
22 


The  Americans 


First  crumb  by  crumb  and  later  chunk  by  chunk, 
Until   he's  drawn   them  round  him,   thousands  of 

them, 

And  when  they've  come  he's  put  them  all  to  work. 
And  to  see  them  at  it !    I  could  spend  my  life 
Sitting  upon  the  mountains  on  some  rock 
That  hangs  above  the  town,  watching  them  drudge. 
'Get  me  my  logs  out;'  and  they  get  his  logs. 
'Now  saw  them ;  make  me  lumber ;'  and  they  do  it, 
'Build  me  my  railroad ;'  and  they  blast  the  rocks. 
'Now  up  with  my  big  mansion  on  the  hill, 
And  carve  me  all  my  ants  upon  the  walls, 
Some  sawing  logs,  others  with  axes  raised 
Hard  at  the  big  round  boles,  some  half  cut  down; 
Make  her  look  like  a  forest  through  and  through.' 
And  they've  tugged  at  it  till  they've  got  it  done. 
And  all  they've  chopped  and  sawed  and  built  is  his, 
And  he  puts  it  in  his  pocket  and  sits  down 
And  they  can't  help  themselves.     They've  got  to 

eat, 

And  Egerton  he's  the  man  that's 

(He  has  risen  and  stands  looking  back  through 
the  darkness) 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

What  do  you  say, 

Harvey,  let's  spend  the  night  back  in  the  cabin. 
It  ain't  the  cold  I  mind,  but  from  the  air 
I  wouldn't  be  surprised  if  it  would  snow. 
23 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
By  God,  Cap! 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 
Eh? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Looks  like  the  boys  had  found  it. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 
You  don't,  don't  say! 
(Goes  to  the  boulder) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Off  there,  beyond  the  knob. 

(Bill  Patten   comes   through   the  darkness,  rear 
right.    He  looks  about,  then  spies  the  men) 

BILL  PATTEN. 

You  got  some  grub  that  you  can  spare,  boys? 

(Goes  near  the  men  and  gets  their  line  of  vision) 

That? 
It's  the  moon  rising. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

Ah,  I'm  glad,  I'm  glad! 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Against  the  sky  it  looked  like  some  far  fire. 
(Gets  down  from  the  boulder) 
24 


The  Americans 


BILL  PATTEN. 

You're  of  the  force  that's  huntin'  for  the  mine? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
That's  'hunting'  for  it,  yes. 

BILL  PATTEN. 
You'll  find  it. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON, 

Why? 

BILL  PATTEN. 
Egerton's  luck. 
(Calls  back) 
O  Silas! 

(To  Anderson) 

'Tain't  no  use 

A-fightin'  that  old  wolf  or  'spectin'  God 
To  put  his  hand  between  J.  D.  and  gold. 
He's  got  a  devil  that  takes  care  of  him. 

(Silas  Maury  and  his  son  Willie,  a  boy  of  twelve 
or  thirteen,  enter  rear) 

BILL  PATTEN. 

And  the  same  devil  blacks  Aug.  Jergens'  boots. 
I'd  like  to  get  that  man  in  some  lone  spot. 

( They  sit  down.     The  workmen  seize  food  and 
eat  ravenously) 

25 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Mill-hands? 

(Patten  nods) 
How's  the  strike? 

BILL  PATTEN. 

I  ain't  a  man 
To  show  the  white  while  there's  a  chance  to  win. 

SILAS  MAURY. 

They've  got  till  sun-down  to  report  for  work. 

BILL  PATTEN. 

They'll  feel  like  dogs,  too,  goin'  in  that  gate, 
After  the  bluff  they've  made,  lickin'  his  hand. 
Me  for  some  other  town.     I'd  rather  starve. 

SILAS  MAURY. 

They're  'ranging  to  bring  in  a  lot  of  scabs 
To-morrow,  when  the  Governor  will  be  there. 

BILL  PATTEN. 

Much  as  to  say,  'Now  knock  'em !'    Son  of  a  bitch ! 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
The  Governor? 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

What's  the  trouble? 
•  26 


The  Americans 


BILL  PATTEN. 
Cakes  and  pies. 

SILAS  MAURY. 

It's  Egerton's  big  reception. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(To  Cap  Sounders) 

Explains  the  lights. 
They're   getting  things   in   shape. 

SILAS  MAURY. 
Yes. 

(He  and  Anderson  walk  a  little  way  left  and 
look  back  toward  the  mansion) 

BILL  PATTEN. 

When  the  boys 

First  talked  of  strikin'  when  they  made  the  cut 
I  said,  'Don't  do  it.    Egerton's  a  man — 
You'd  better  fight  the  Devil  than  fight  him. 
He'll  show  no  mercy  on  you  if  you  cross  him.' 
I  guess  they  know  by  now  that  Bill  was  right. 
Sam     Williams     though     he     thinks     he     knows. 

'Hang  on.' 

All  right,  hang  on;  but  you  will  see  what  comes. 
It's  hell.     I'd  rather  die  out  on  some  rock. 

SILAS  MAURY. 

There  ain't  no  room  for  poor  men  in  this  world. 
27 


The  Americans 


I  don't  know  what  God  ever  made  us  for. 
(He  and  Anderson  return  to  the  fire) 

BILL  PATTEN. 

The  man  that's  got  no  home's  a  lucky  man. 

SILAS  MAURY. 

I  said  to  Willie,  Tm  glad  mother's  dead.' 
(A  pause) 

WILLIE  MAURY. 

Think  she  can  see  us,  pa? 

SILAS  MAURY. 
I  don't  think  so. 

BILL  PATTEN. 
She's  better  off. 

SILAS  MAURY. 

That's  true.    I  hope  she  can't. 
She  died  a-thinkin'  Willie  would  be  rich 
Some  day,  if  they  ever  found  the  mine. 

BILL  PATTEN. 
(Bitterly) 
Give  'em  your  apples  and  expect  the  core. 

SILAS  MAURY. 

It  came  so  quick,  though,  Bill;  he  didn't  think. 
28 


The  Americans 


BILL  PATTEN. 

If  he  had  just  kept  still  and  called  to  Chris 
And  had  him  help  and  roll  the  log  aside 
And  then  at  night  let  some  of  us  men  know, 
We  could  have  slipped  it  out  and  hidden  it, 
And  gone  to  Egerton  and  said,  'See  here, 
We've  found  the  log  that  you've  been  lookin'  for 
These  years  and  haven't  found  it ' 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

You  don't  mean 

BILL  PATTEN. 

'And  if  you'll  do  the  square  thing  we'll  cough  up ; 
If  not,  we'll  go  and  find  the  mine  ourselves.' 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

You  don't  mean  'twas  the  boy  that  found  the  log! 

SILAS  MAURY. 

Willie  here  found  it. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

Well,  well,  well!    H-u-rrah! 
Hurrah,  I  say! 

( Throws   his  hat  into  the  air.     Harry  Egerton 
comes  through  the  darkness  rear  right) 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

If  I  could  call  the  men, 

Call  up  the  men,  my  son,  who've  spent  their  lives 
29 


The  Americans 


Tryin'  to  get  a  peep  of  that  there  trunk — 
You  hear  that,  boys,  you  up  there  in  the  air? 

BILL  PATTEN. 

He'd  come  to  terms,  all  right,  you  bet  your  life. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Good  evening,  men.     I'm  turned  around  a  bit, 
Or  seem  to  be.    Just  where  is  Foreston? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

You  see  those  lights  down  there? 

(He  walks  back,  left.    Harry  Egerton  joins  him, 
going  across  rear) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
That's  east  ? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Correct. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
And  how  far  am  I  from  it? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
About  six  miles. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

From  Foreston,  I  mean? 
30 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Six  miles  or  more. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
So  far! 

(He  walks  back  a  little  way,  then  stops  and  looks 
off  up  the  valley.  Harvey  Anderson  comes  for- 
ward and  begins  to  break  some  brush  to  replen- 
ish the  fire} 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

Who  is  it,  Harvey? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
I  don't  know. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

And  it  had  the  sign  cut  in  the  bark,  eh? 

SILAS  MAURY. 
Yes. 

WILLIE  MAURY. 

Two  X's  and  a  spade. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

That's  it,  that's  it! 

'Two  X's  and  a  spade,  then  dig  nine  feet.' 
There's  two  bits,  son.    How  did  it  happen,  dad? 
31 


The  Americans 


SILAS  MAURY. 

It  came  up  into  the  mill  with  the  other  logs, 
Lookin'  just  like  'em,  but  Willie  spied  the  sign — 

WILLIE  MAURY. 

Just  as  it  was  goin'  into  the  saws. 

SILAS  MAURY. 

And  shouted  to  Chris  Knudson.     Chris  shut  down; 
There  was  a  crowd ;  and  then  Aug.  Jergens  come 
And  had  it  hauled  away. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

If  you  and  me 

Had  been  out  here,  son,  when  all  these  were  trees 
And  you'd  a-spied  that  sign,  I  tell  you  what, 
I'd  hung  some  nuggets  round  this  little  neck. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

You'd  better  wait  until  the  moon  comes  out. 
It's  a  rough  road  back  there. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
There  is  a  road? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
A  logging  road. 

32 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 

(Coming    forward,    notices    the    casts    upon    the 

ground} 
You're  searching  for  the  mine? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Cap  and  I  here.    These  men  are  from  the  mill. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

(With  interest) 
From  the  mill  down  in  Foreston,  you  mean? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Leaving  in  search  of  work. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Are  things  so  bad 

Down  at  the  mill,  my  friends,  that  you  must  leave? 
Are  others  leaving?    Have  the  men  gone  back? 
(The  men  glare  at  him) 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 

They'll  have  to  soon,  they  say ;  their  grub's  give  out. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

The  Company  has  given  them  till  to-morrow  night 
To  come  to  work  or  be  shut  out  for  good. 
33 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 

Have  they  brought  in  more  men? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
They're  arranging  to. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

I  do  not  see,  friends,  what  you  hope  to  gain 

By  leaving  Foreston  and  wandering  off 

In  search  of  work.    In  the  first  place  I  know, 

As  you  perhaps  do  not,  that  Egerton 

Has  given  orders  to  the  neighboring  plants 

To  take  on  no  more  men  until  this  strike 

Is  settled,  till  it's  won.    And,  as  you  know, 

For  forty  miles  around  the  mills  are  his, 

The  camps  are  his.    And  where  his  power  ends, 

Others  begin  that  work  in  harmony 

With  Egerton  and  Company.    They  are  one, 

And  have  an  understanding  in  some  things 

Far  more  than  you  suspect. 

(Patten   and   Maury    rise   and   walk    aside   and 
whisper  together) 

And  they  all  know 

Whatever  be  the  outcome  of  this  strike 
The  effect  of  it  will  reach  them  all  at  last. 
If  you  men  win,  mill-workers  everywhere 
Will  take  new  heart  and  stand  for  better  things. 
But  if  the  Company  wins,  others  will  say — 
And  with  no  little  weight — 'We  cannot  pay 
34 


The  Americans 


The  present  scale  of  wages  and  compete 

With  Egerton  and  Company.'    So  it  will  go 

Until  the  farthest  mill  in  all  this  land 

Puts  in  its  hand  and  takes  a  ten  per  cent 

Out  of  the  wages  of  its  workingmen. 

And  there's  no  power  on  earth  that  can  prevent  it. 

(Willie   Maury   rises   and  joins   his  father  and 
Patten} 

But  even  were  this  not  true,  were  places  open, 
The  same  conditions  would  confront  you  there 
As  now  confront  you  here.    At  any  time 
Those  who  employ  you  have  you  in  their  power 
And  can  reduce  your  wages  when  they  choose, 
Lay  on  you  what  conditions  they  see  fit, 
And  you  must  either  yield  or  be  turned  forth 
To  wander  on  again.     I  do  not  know 
Whether  you  men  have  families  or  not, 
But  others  have,  and  their  cause  is  your  own. 
You  cannot  wander  on  for  evermore, 
Picking  up  here  and  there  a  chance  day's  work 
And  hoping  that  to-morrow  things  will  change, 
For  changes  do  not  come  except  through  men. 

(The  men  return  to  the  fire) 

And  so  I  do  not  see  just  what  it  is 
You  hope  to  gain  by  leaving  Foreston. 
You  cannot  spend  your  lives  on  highways,  friends. 
Where  will  you  go  ?    Have  you  some  place  in  mind  ? 
35 


The  Americans 


BILL  PATTEN. 

It's  none  of  your  damn  business  where  we  go. 
We  don't  wear  no  man's  collar. 

SILAS  MAURY. 
Bill  is  right. 

BILL  PATTEN. 

Nor  Egerton's,  nor  no  man's  on  this  earth. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

I  beg  your  pardon,  friends,  I  did  not  mean 

BILL  PATTEN. 

We're  twenty-one  years  old  and  we're  free  men. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

I  did  not  mean  you  had  no  right  to  go. 
You  have. 

BILL  PATTEN. 
You  bet  we  have. 

SILAS  MAURY. 

You  can't  get  men 

And  want  to  scare  us  back,  that's  what  you  want, 
Talkin'  as  how  the  mills  will  shut  us  out. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

I  have  no  wish  to  scare  you  back,  my  friend. 
36 


The  Americans 


BILL  PATTEN. 

Then  what's  your  proposition? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
I  have  none. 

BILL  PATTEN. 

Come  up  to  shake  hands,  eh,  and  say,  Good-bye? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

I  chanced  upon  you  here. 

BILL  PATTEN, 

'Chanced'  hell!     We  know. 

SILAS  MAURY. 

If  it's  my  rent  you're  after,  if  it's  that, 

I  think  you  might  at  least  let  that  much  go 

For  what  my  boy  did,  findin'  of  the  log. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Friends,   you  misunderstand  me   if  you   think 
That  I  am  here  to  speak  for  any  man, 
Or  round  you  up,  or  lift  one  hand  to  stay 
Your  coming  or  your  going.    You  are  free 
And  can  do  what  you  please. 

BILL  PATTEN. 

You  bet  we  can, 
For  all  your  bayonets. 

37 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 
My  bayonets? 

BILL  PATTEN. 
Yes. 

SILAS  MAURY. 

Think  we  don't  know  you,  eh? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

I  do  not  know, 

I  do  not  know  what  I  can  say  to  you. 
I  understand  just  how  you 

SILAS  MAURY. 

(Plucks  him  by  the  sleeve  and  points  off  up  the 
valley) 

There's  your  home, 

Off  there  in  that  big  mansion  on  the  hill. 
Go  there  and  live  your  life;  you're  none  of  us. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

My  father  is  my  father;  I  am  I. 

(The  men  prepare  to  leave.     Cap  Saunders  rises 
and  begins  to  pack  up  the  things) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

We  do  not  choose  the  gates  through  which  we  come 
Into  this  world,  my  friends.    Nor  you  nor  I 
38 


The  Americans 


Selected  who  should  cradle  us  nor  what  home 
Should    give   us   shelter.      'Tis   what   we   do    that 

counts, 

Not  whence  we  come.    Do  not  misjudge  me,  friends. 
Because  I  am  a  son  of  Egerton 
Deny  me  not  the  right  to  be  a  man. 

SILAS  MAURY. 
You  wear  our  sweat  in  your  fine  clothes  all  right. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

I  wear,  my  friend,  what  my  own  hands  have  earned. 
Where  will  you  go? 

SILAS  MAURY. 

We'll  go  where  we  can  find 

BILL  PATTEN. 

Don't   tell   him,    Si.      Don't   you   see   through   his 

game? 

Keeps  askin'  where  we're  goin'.    Don't  you  see? 
He's  a  spy  of  the  Company. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Ah,  you  do  not  know 
Why  I  am  here.    God  knows  I  did  not  come 

WILLIE  MAURY. 

Thought  we  wouldn't  know  him. 
39 


The  Americans 


SILAS  MAURY. 

Poor  men  are  fools. 

WILLIE  MAURY. 

He's  been 
Doggin'  our  footsteps. 

BILL  PATTEN. 

You've  been  followin'  us 
To  find  out  where 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 
Don't  quarrel,  men. 

BILL  PATTEN. 

It's  a  good  thing 

Your  old  man  crushed  me  till  I  pawned  my  gun, 
Or,  God,  I'd  kill  you.     Do  you  understand? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Hold  on  there,  pard. 

BILL  PATTEN. 

So  he  could  have  the  mills 

Blacklist  us.    Curse  you !    And  curse  all  your  kind ! 
You've  ground  us  down  until  we're  dogs,  damn  you. 

SILAS  MAURY. 

Come  sneakin'  round  to 

40 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 

Friend,  I  did  not  come 
To  spy  on  any  man  or  seek  you  out 
Here  on  the  mountains.    For  my  hope  has  been 

BILL  PATTEN. 

We'll  blow  you  up  some  day,  you  mark  my  word. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

That  never  one  of  you  would  leave  the  ranks 
In  your  great  struggle  in  the  valley  there, 
But  that  you  would  stand  fast,  and  somehow  win 
In  spite  of  everything,  starvation,  death. 
And  I  have  done  all  that  I  could  to  help  you. 
But  you,  my  friends,  O  you  must  understand, 
As  there  are  some  things  that  you  cannot  do, 
So  there  are  things  I  cannot. 

CAP  SAUNDERS. 
Get  the  pot. 

(  The  boy  picks  up  the  coffee  pot) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

How  I  came  here  I  do  not  know  myself. 
Some  Power  has  led  me  though  I  know  not  why. 
I  half  remember  that  I  could  not  sleep 
For  voices  round  me  in  my  father's  hall, 
And  rose  and  wandered  forth,  fleeing  from  some- 
thing 

41 


The  Americans 


That  seemed  to  follow  me  across  the  waste, 
A  sighing  and  a  thundering  of  men. 
All  day,   it  seems,   I've  wandered  over  the  moun- 
tains 

And  all  last  night.    Then  from  afar  I  spied 
Your  fire  here  and  came  to  learn  my  way. 

SILAS  MAURY. 

Your  way  lies  that  way  and  our  way  lies  this. 

{Patten,  Maury,  Cap  Saunders  and  the  boy  go 
off  through  the  darkness,  right  rear) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

You  must  be  hungry,  pard. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

No,  thank  you,  no, 
Nothing  to  eat. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

'Tain't  much,  but  what  it  is 
You're  welcome  to  it. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

{Calling  after  the  men) 

And  you  will  go  away 
And  leave  this  great  cause  hanging  in  mid  air? 

VOICE  OF  SILAS  MAURY. 

Tend  to  your  business  and  we'll  tend  to  ours. 
42 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Don't  mind  them;  they're  damn  fools. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

You  understand 

What  I  have  tried  to  say  unto  these  men; 
You  understand,  I  know. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
I  think  I  do. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

And  something  tells  me  we  shall  meet  again. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Who    knows?      I'm    tramping    round,    to-day   one 

place, 

To-morrow  another.     I'm  a  rolling  stone. 
I  never  have  been  one  to  keep  the  trails. 
Just  knock  about  the  States  and  watch  the  plains 
For  something — I  don't  know — and  yet  'twill  come, 
And  when  she  comes  she'll  shake  her  good  and  hard. 
I  don't  know  what  you're  rolling  in  your  mind, 
But,  as  you  say,  it's  a  great  land  we've  got. 
I  like  to  lie  and  feel  her  under  my  back 
And  know  she  tumbles  to  the  double  seas 
Up  to  her  hips  in  mile  on  mile  of  wheat. 
Beyond  that  moon  are  cities  packed  with  men 
That  overflow.    The  fields  are  filling  up. 

They're  climbing  up  the  mountains  of  the  West 

43 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 

(Looking  after  the  men) 
And  going  on  beyond  them. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

It's  all  right. 

They'll  reach  the  coast  off  there  or  reach  the  ice, 
And  then  they'll  have  to  turn  or  jump  on  off. 
And  they  won't  jump  off.    It's  too  fine  a  land. 
Men  throw  away  the  hoofs  but  not  the  haunch. 
I  sometimes  see  them  in  the  dead  of  night 
Crawling  like  ants  along  her  big  broad  back, 
\Vith  axe  and  pick  and  plow,  building  their  hills 
And  pushing  on  and  on.    It's  a  great  land. 
And  bread  tastes  good  that's  eaten  in  her  air. 
And  there's  enough  for  all  here 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
Yes,  ah,  yes! 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

If  we  could  just  turn  something  upside  down. 
I  don't  know  what  you've  heard  along  the  waste, 
But  when  you  think  it's  time  to  ring  a  change, 
And  when  you  draft  your  men  and  call  the  roll, 
Write  Harvey  Anderson  up  near  the  top. 
And  here's  my  hand,  pard.    You  can  count  on  me. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
We'll  meet  again. 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Hope  so.     I  like  your  face, 
And  like  the  way  you  talk.    Good-night. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
Good-night. 

(Harvey  Anderson  takes  up  his  pack  and  cast 
and  goes  off  through  the  darkness  after  the 
other  men.  For  a  long  time  Harry  Egerton 
stands  looking  after  him.  The  fire  has  burned 
low) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Not  that,  not  that!    And  yet  I  know  'twill  come. 
My  God!  my  God!    Is  there  no  way,  no  way? 

(Walks  left  and  looks  off  up  the  valley) 
My  father!    O  my  father! 

(He  breaks  out  crying  and,  staggering  about,  falls 
first  upon  his  knees,  then  face  forward  upon 
the  ground.  Instantly  it  becomes  pitch  dark) 


THE  DREAM  VISION 

(During  the  following,  a  shaft  of  light,  falling 
upon  Harry  Egerton,  shows  him  lying  near  the 
boulder.     As  he  cries  out,  he  partially  rises,  his 
form  and  face  convulsed  with  anguish) 
45 


The  Americans 


FIRST  VOICE. 

(From  up  the  mountain,  full  of  pleasure) 
Harry!     Harry!     Come  to  the  heights! 

SECOND  VOICE. 

(From  the  valley,  full  of  sorrow) 
Harry!     Harry!    Come  to  the  valley! 

THIRD  VOICE. 

(From  far  back,  full  of  peace) 
Harry!     Harry!  plunge  into  the  darkness, 
The  abysses  and  the  waterfalls  and  silence! 

THE  THREE  VOICES. 

(In  chorus) 
We  are  Realities !    We  are  Realities ! 

\ 
VOICE. 

(From  above) 
One  life  to  live! 

FIRST  VOICE. 

Come  to  me,  Harry! 

SECOND  AND  THIRD  VOICES. 
She  will  grow  old. 

VOICE. 

(From  above) 
One  life  to  live! 

46 


The  Americans 


SECOND  VOICE. 

Come  to  me,  Harry! 

FIRST  AND  THIRD  VOICES. 

You  cannot  help  them;  you've  no  power. 

VOICE. 

(From  above) 
One  life  to  live! 

THIRD  VOICE. 

Come  to  me,  Harry! 

FIRST  VOICE. 

(Gayly) 

Fool!  fool! 

SECOND  VOICE. 

You  cannot  die ;  there  is  no  death. 

VOICE. 

(From  above) 
Decide! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
My  God! 

VOICE. 

(From  above) 
Decide! 

47 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 
My  God! 

VOICE. 

(As  of  a  drunkard  singing) 
If  you  was  in  the  gutter,  Bill, 
And  I  was  on  the  roof 

VOICES. 

You're  going  mad!    You're  going  mad! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
Mother!  mother! 

(Presently,  about  twenty  feet  up  in  the  rear  and 
on  either  side,  faint  lights  begin  to  appear  and 
faint  sounds  of  music  are  heard.  Gradually 
the  lights  brighten  a  little  and  the  sounds  of 
music  become  more  and  more  audible  until  one 
becomes  conscious  that  on  the  left  an  orchestra 
is  playing  and  to  the  right  a  piano.  One  also 
becomes  conscious  of  a  vast  and  beautiful  hall 
over  the  floor  of  which,  as  the  music  plays,  the 
forms  of  dancers  are  gliding.  Occasionally 
from  here  and  there  flashes  a  sparkle  as  of  dia- 
monds, and  low  rippling  laughter  is  heard.  In 
the  foreground  for  a  space  of  twelve  or  fifteen 
feet,  cut  off  from  the  main  hall  by  the  faintest 
outlines  of  an  immense  arch,  small  groups  of 
elderly  people  stand  about  watching  the  dan- 
48 


The  Americans 


cerSj  or  saunter  right  and  left  into  the  adjoin- 
ing apartments.  In  these  apartments  also  peo- 
ple are  seen  moving  about,  and  there  is  a  hum 
of  voices  as  of  men  and  women  in  conversation. 
At  no  time  does  it  become  very  light,  and  all 
that  passes  seems  to  pass  in  a  dim  shadow 
world. 

It  is  sufficiently  light,  however,  to  enable  one 
to  discern  the  grotesque  richness  of  the  hall 
which,  as  one  sees  at  a  glance,  is  an  elaborate 
representation  of  a  pine  forest,  the  boles  of  the 
trees  standing  out  in  beautiful  irregularity 
along  the  walls,  the  boughs  above  in  the  semi- 
darkness  seeming  to  disappear  in  some  sort  of 
cathedral  roof.  There,  all  about,  singly  and  in 
clusters,  innumerable  small  globes  as  though 
the  cones  were  illuminated.  Between  the  trees, 
also  in  relief  and  life-sized,  figures  of  men  at 
work  getting  out  timber.  Forward  right, 
teams  dragging  logs,  and,  on  the  opposite  wall, 
a  distant  view  of  a  river  with  rafts  floating 
down.  Standing  on  stumps,  huge  figures  sup- 
port the  arched  doorways,  of  which  there  is  one 
in  the  rear  wall  right,  and  one  centre  in  each  of 
the  side  walls.  Left  rear,  the  grand  staircase 
with  the  glow  of  some  hidden  lamp  shining 
upon  the  landing.  Here  the  carved  scene  upon 
the  wall  is  that  of  an  inclined  trestle-work,  with 
logs  going  up  apparently  into  some  mill  above. 
49 


The  Americans 


Below,  crouched  upon  the  newel-post  and  the 
lower  rail,  the  carved  figure  of  a  large  moun- 
tain lion  with  a  frosted  light  in  its  open  mouth. 
Forward  from  the  arched  doorway,  left,  there 
is  no  wall  from  about  four  feet  up,  and  through 
this  open  space,  faintly  illumined  by  small  hid- 
den lamps,  a  greenness  as  of  palms  and  flowers. 
The  music  ceases  and  the  couples  break  up. 
Later,  the  piano  begins  again,  and  just  inside 
the  main  hall  Gladys  Egerton,  in  low  decollete 
and  holding  her  skirts  above  her  ankles,  appears 
dancing  ravishingly  to  the  music  of  the  piano) 

FIRST  LADY. 

Isn't  she  charming! 

SECOND  LADY. 

And  that's  George  that's  playing. 

(Holding  her  skirts  high  the  girl  executes  a  grace- 
ful high  kick  and  there  is  a  clapping  of  hands) 

MEN'S  VOICES. 

Bravo!  bravo!     Once  more  like  that,  my  kitten! 

THIRD  LADY. 

Dear,  you  may  have  my  Chester! 
(Laughter) 

FOURTH  LADY. 

You  dance  superbly. 

50 


The  Americans 


GLADYS  EGERTON. 

I'll  take  your  husband. 
(Continues  dancing) 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

Why,  Gladys  Egerton! 

A  MAN'S  VOICE. 

Just  any  time  you  want  him,  Gladys. 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 
All  right. 

A  MAN. 

(Appearing  forward  right) 
Ladies,  the  Governor  is  telling  stories. 
Out  of  politeness  let's  give  him  a  crowd. 

(Some  of  the  ladies  start  right,  others  begin  to 
move  about) 

FIFTH  LADY. 

She'd  make  a  good  catch. 

SIXTH  LADY. 

Either  she  or  George  would. 

THIRD  LADY. 

(Calling  aloud) 

Here  is  another!    Now  there  are  thirteen  of  us. 
(Laughter) 

51 


The  Americans 


FOURTH  LADY. 

There  you're  on  my  toes.    Marjorie's  after  George. 

SIXTH  LADY. 

Your  Marge,  my  dear 

(Glances  in  the  direction  of  Airs.  Egerton,  then 
whispers) 

Your  Marge  may  have  the  other. 

FOURTH  LADY. 

Thank  you,  dear  Mrs.  Casper,  we'll  have — gander. 
(Laughter.     They  go  out  right) 

SEVENTH  LADY. 

To  have  a  son  like  that! 

EIGHTH  LADY. 
Yes,  what  a  pity. 

NINTH  LADY. 

He  hasn't  anything  like  the  grace  of  George. 

SEVENTH  LADY. 

Nor  the  accomplishments. 

EIGHTH  LADY. 
Nor  the  education. 

SEVENTH  LADY. 

He  belongs  down  in  the  mill  among  the  men. 
52 


The  Americans 


EIGHTH  LADY. 

One  would  have  thought,  though,  at  the  first  recep- 
tion— 
If  only  for  his  mother's  sake. 

SEVENTH  LADY. 

That's  true. 

• 

NINTH  LADY. 

How  old  she  looks  to-night. 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

(Who  has  been  skipping  to  the  music,  whirls  in 

from  the  main  hall) 
Mother  is  old. 

NINTH  LADY. 

I  did  not  mean  for  you  to  overhear  that. 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

O  that's  all  right.    We  always  do  that  way. 

(Continues  dancing) 

If  you  had  on  your  heart  what  mother  has 
You'd  look  old,  too. 

EIGHTH  LADY. 

What  did  she  mean  by  that? 
53 


The  Americans 


GLADYS  EGERTON. 

Leave  us  alone  here  just  a  little  while. 
(The  women  go  out  right) 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 
Mother! 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
Yes,  darling. 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

Mother,  where  is  Harry? 
(Dances) 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
I  do  not  know. 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

It's  very  embarrassing. 
People  are  whispering.    Mother,  has  no  word  come? 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

Have  you  asked  your  father? 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 
Yes. 

(Dances) 

Mother,  I'm  sure 
Something  has  happened  to  him. 
54 


The  Americans 


MRS.  EGERTON. 

Don't,  my  child, 
Don't  say  that. 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

(Mysteriously) 
Why? 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

Go,  child ;  people  are  watching  us. 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

/  know  why!    /  know  why! 
(Dances) 

Let  go !  let  go ! 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

And  please  tell  Donald  that  I'm  waiting  for  him. 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

You're  going  after  flowers,  mother;  /  know. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

Flowers,  my  child?    What  for? 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 
For  Harry's  grave. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

Why  Gladys,  Gladys  Egerton! 
55 


The  Americans 


GLADYS  EGERTON. 

(Whirling  back  into  the  main  hall} 
I  know. 

(She  disappears  into  the  conservatory,  left. 
Alone,  Mrs.  Egerton  stands  a  pathetic  figure. 
She  walks  back  into  the  deserted  hall  and  stops 
and  listens  as  though  to  the  upper  part  of  the 
walls.  She  then  turns  slowly  and  comes  for- 
ward again.  George  Egerton  enters  quickly 
from  the  conservatory) 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 
Mother! 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
Yes,  George. 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

This  is  disgraceful,  mother. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

I  cannot  help  it,  George. 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 
Where  did  he  go? 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

I've  told  you,  George.    Now  please  don't  bother  me. 
56 


The  Americans 


GEORGE  EGERTON. 
People  are  whispering. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
But  what  can  I  do? 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

Call  to  them  that  he's  up  in  bed  with  fever, 
Or  say  that  he  was  brought  home  from  the  river 
drowned. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

(Calling  aloud) 
It's  none  of  your  business,  people!     Harry's  my  son. 

(She  comes  forward) 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

That  wasn't  what  I  said.    You  are  just  like  him. 

(He  turns  back  and  re-enters  the  conservatory. 
Mrs.  Egerton  passes  into  the  room  forward 
right.  The  lights  in  the  hall  become  dimmer) 

VOICES. 

(From  the  walls) 
Sam!    Sam!     Sam! 

(There  is  a  silence,  then  a  sigh  as  of  innumerable 
voices,  then  a  silence  and  another  sigh  and  still 
another) 

57 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 

My  father!    O  my  father! 

(From  the  conservatory  comes  a  sound  of  laugh- 
ter, and  a  beautiful  girl  runs  in.  A  moment 
later  the  bloom  of  a  large  white  chrysanthe- 
mum is  thrown  in  after  her.  A  young  man 
enters.  Other  couples  come  in.  George  Eger- 
ton,  evidently  master  of  ceremonies,  moves 
about  here  and  there.  A  tuning  of  instruments 
is  heard.  People  come  from  the  side  rooms. 
When  all  is  in  readiness,  while  the  dancers, 
who  have  taken  their  positions,  stand  waiting 
for  the  music  to  begin,  the  sighing  is  again 
heard) 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

(Exasperated  by  the  delay) 
What's  the  matter  there,  Melazzini? 

(Excusing  himself  to  his  partner,  he  goes  toward 
the  conservatory,  where  the  orchestra  is  sta- 
tioned. As  the  sigh  is  repeated  the  couples 
gather  together.  At  the  third  sigh  they  scatter, 
some  of  them  running  out  through  the  middle 
door  right,  others  hurrying  forward,  one  or 
two  of  the  girls  laughing  hysterically) 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

It's  just   the   wind   that's   blowing  through   some- 
where. 

58 


The  Americans 


( The  people  disappear  into  the  apartment  right. 
Charles,  the  butler,  and  two  maids,  badly 
frightened,  come  in  rear) 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

Close  that  door,  Charles. 

CHARLES. 

There's  no  door  open,  sir. 

(The  four  come  forward,  the  butler  and  maids 
briskly,  George  Egerton  more  slowly  and  with 
a  sort  of  defiance.  They,  too,  pass  out  right) 

VOICES. 

(From  the  walls) 

Sam!     Sam!     Sam! 

( The  sighs  are  repeated) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

My  father!    O  my  father! 

(The  mountain  lion  upon  the  newel-post  spits  the 
light  from  his  mouth  and  it  breaks  upon  the 
floor.  The  monster  then  gets  down) 

LION. 

Chris! 

A  VOICE. 
Yes. 

59 


The  Americans 


LION. 
Mike! 

A  VOICE. 
Here. 

LION. 

Wes  Dicey! 

A  VOICE. 
Sure. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

(As  though  a  roll  were  being  called) 
Harvey  Anderson! 

LION. 

Whose  voice  was  that  ? 

A  VOICE. 

Who's  Harvey  Anderson? 

SECOND  VOICE. 
There's  some  spy  here. 

LION. 

Come  down,  comrades! 

60 


The  Americans 


VOICES. 

(Above} 

We're  fast!  we're  fast! 
Nails  in  our  hands  and  feet! 

THIRD  VOICE. 
Who's  that? 

VOICES. 

(Below} 

They've  danced  upon  my  face!     And  mine! 
And  mine!     And  mine!     And  mine!     And  mine! 

A  VOICE. 

I've  been  a  door-jamb  years  and  years! 

VOICES. 

(From  round  the  walls} 
We've  held  these  arches  up  for  ages! 

VOICES. 

(From  far  below} 

We're  the  foundations!     Help  us,  comrades! 
Down  on  the  rock  here — deeper!  deeper! 

VOICES. 

Help  us,  Sam  Williams!     Help  us,  Sam  Williams! 

LION. 

Come  down,  comrades! 
61 


The  Americans 


VOICES. 

(From  far  away) 

We're  the  windows! 
They  made  us  sand,  then  made  us  shine! 
We've  touched  their  faces  and  their  hair! 

VOICES. 

(From  up  the  stairs) 
We're  coming,  and  there's  thousands  of  us! 

VOICES. 

(Far  up) 
We're  holding  up  the  roof ! 

LION. 

Come  down ! 
You've  held  her  up  too  long  already! 

(There  has  been  a  pounding  of  hammers  and  a 
creaking  as  of  timbers  being  loosened.  Sighs 
and  groans  fill  the  halL  The  lights  burn  un- 
steadily, flashing  or  going  out  or  glowing  with 
a  tint  of  blue) 

VOICES. 

Help  us,  Sam  Williams!     Help  us!    Help  us  I 

OTHER  VOICES. 

Let  'em  alone!    They're  scabs!    They're  scabs! 
(Carven  figures,  still  rigid,  come  from  the  walls. 
From  everywhere  they  come,  in  the  most  fan- 
62 


The  Americans 


tastic  postures,  some  hopping  with  one  leg 
lifted,  some  gliding  with  raised  axes,  others 
bent  and  in  pairs  carrying  cross-cut  saws,  still 
others  with  peavies  in  their  hands.  Up  through 
the  floor  all  round  come  dark  figures  with 
torches  in  their  caps.  Stealthily  and  with 
muffled  voices  they  gather  about  the  Lion. 
Suddenly  the  pounding  ceases  and  all  is  still) 

A  VOICE. 

He's  coming,  and  the  Powers  are  with  him! 

SECOND  VOICE. 
Justice  is  all  we  want! 

SEVERAL  VOICES. 
Right!    Right! 

LION. 

Are  we  one,  comrades? 

ALL. 

We're  one!    We're  one! 

A  VOICE. 

Ask  him  to  release  us,  Sam ! 

(Donald  Egerton,  with  Governor  Braddock  and 
Bishop   Hardbrooke   at   his    heels,   comes   hur- 
riedly through  the  centre  door  right) 
63 


The  Americans 


DONALD  EGERTON. 

(Peering  about,  sees  the  Figures) 
What  does  this  mean?    Back  to  the  walls! 

LION. 

We  are  the  walls! 

FIGURES. 

We  are  the  walls! 

DONALD  EGERTON. 

I  made  you  what  you  are! 

LION. 

That's  true! 
And  we  made  you! 

FIGURES. 
And  we  made  you! 

LION. 

We  made  each  other! 

You  are  our  father  and  we  your  mother! 

FIGURES. 

That's  true!    That's  true! 

LION. 

And  now  make  us  as  we  made  you ! 
64 


The  Americans 


GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

Be  careful,  Colonel  Egerton. 

See  that  one  there  with  axe  upliftecM 

DONALD  EGERTON. 

Braddock,  as  a  citizen  of  this  commonwealth 
I  call  upon  you  to  enforce  the  laws! 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

My  friends  and  fellow  citizens, 
This  is  unwise,  this  course  you  are  pursuing, 
And  cannot  in  the  end  but  injure  you. 
The  laws  were  made  for  these  disputes, 
And  you  like  others  must  obey. 

LION. 

He  made  the  laws! 

FIGURES. 

He  made  the  laws! 

DONALD  EGERTON. 

Hear  that,  Braddock!     This  is  anarchy! 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

I  urge  you  to  go  peaceably  to  your  homes! 

LION. 

Our  homes? 

65 


The  Americans 


FIGURES. 

What  homes? 

LION. 

We  have  no  homes! 

(Egerton  says  something  to  the  Governor) 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 
Then  by  the 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

One  moment,  brother  Egerton; 
One  moment,  Governor;  let  me  say  a  word. 

(Steps  toward  the  Figures) 
My  brothers, 

If  hunger  hath  driven  you  here,  then  know  I  speak 
For  one  whose  self  was  hungry,  Jesus  Christ ; 
Yet  was  he  meek  and  lamb-like.     Why  do  you  not 
Go  to  those  places  that  have  been  prepared 
By  charitable,  Christian  men  and  women 
For  this  very  purpose,  to  relieve  distress? 
If  you  are  worthy  you  will  there  be  fed. 

FIGURES. 

Whited  sepulchre!     He's  a  whited  sepulchre! 
(They  advance  toward  him) 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

How  dare  you,  armed  with  Labor's  sacred  tools 
66 


The  Americans 


Which  our  Lord's  father  sanctified  when  he 

Wrought  at  his  wood  in  Nazareth,  how  dare  you, 

With  envy  in  your  hearts,  on  murder  bent, 

Intrude  upon  the  quiet  social  hour 

Of  honorable,  law-abiding  men  ? 

God  sees  you  with  your  axes  lifted  there. 

And  though  you  fear  not  law  nor  anything 

Of  man,  fear  God,  for  he  hath  power 

And  he  can  reach  you  in  the  uttermost 

Parts  of  the  earth  or  air,  as  David  saith. 

FIGURES. 

The  rich  man's  friend!     The  rich  man's  friend! 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

Then  by  the  power  vested  in  me 

FIGURES. 
We  are  the  power!    We  are  the  power! 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

As  Governor  of  this  commonwealth 
I  will  call  out  the  military! 

FIGURES. 

We  are  the  military!    We  are  the  military! 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

(Calls) 
General  Chadbourne! 

67 


The  Americans 


PEOPLE. 

(Who  have  been  peering  in  forward  right) 
Chadbourne !     Chadbourne ! 

(Efferton  and  the  Bishop  follow  the  Governor  out 
centre  right,  and  the  people  disappear) 

FIGURES. 

(Aloud) 
Release,  release  us  from  this  spell ! 

LION. 

Release  yourselves! 

FIGURES. 

(With  tremendous  surprise) 
We  can!    We  can! 

(There  are  shouts  and  a  thunder  of  tools  falling 
upon  the  floor) 

SHOUTS. 

We're  free!    We're  free! 

OTHER  SHOUTS. 

And  seize  the  throats  that  nailed  us  fast! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Forget  the  past!     Forget  the  past! 

SHOUTS. 

An  enemy!    He's  an  enemy! 
68 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 
Release  your  brothers ! 

SHOUTS. 
To  hell  with  the  scabs! 

(They  rush  through  the  house,  right) 

VOICE  OF  DONALD  EGERTON. 
Fire  on  them! 


VOICE  OF  MRS.  EGERTON. 

No,  no,  Donald!     Shed  no  blood! 
Think  of  their  children! 

VOICE  OF  DONALD  EGERTON. 
Fire,  I  say! 

MEN'S  VOICES. 

We  are  your  fathers  and  your  brothers! 

A  DEEP  VOICE. 
Fire! 

(A  pause) 

CRIES. 
Treason !    Treason ! 

69 


The  Americans 


THE  DEEP  VOICE. 
Shoot  them  down! 

(Shots  are  heard  and  noises  as  of  a  riot) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
My  God!    My  God! 

(The  noises  die  away.    In  the  darkness  the  walls 
are  heard  sighing) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

My  father !    O  my  father ! 
(A  pause) 

VOICE. 

(Forward  right,  in  the  darkness) 
It's  mine! 

SECOND  VOICE. 
It's  mine! 

FIRST  VOICE. 

Let  go  that  hand! 

SECOND  VOICE. 
I  had  it  first! 

FIRST  VOICE. 

Hain't  you  the  rubies? 

(Sounds  of  quarrelling  here  and  there) 
70 


The  Americans 


THIRD  VOICE. 

(Centre  right) 
Shut  up  your  mouths!    You'll  have  the  police  here! 

VOICES. 

(From  the  walls) 
Brothers,  help!    We're  fast!    We're  fast! 

FOURTH  VOICE. 

Pick  up  the  rug,  Pete!    Let's  be  off! 

(Forms  of  men  loaded  with  the  spoil  of  the  man- 
sion are  seen  hurrying  out  left) 

VOICES. 

(Entering  right) 
'Tain't  fair!     'Tain't  fair! 

FIFTH  VOICE. 

(Left) 
Make  for  the  river! 

SIXTH  VOICE. 

Sam,  this  ain't  fair! 

SAM. 

(Entering  right) 
Hold  on  there,  comrades! 
71 


The  Americans 


VOICES. 

Some's  got  it  all  and  some  ain't  none! 

SAM. 

Put  down  that  stuff! 

CRIES. 

That's  right!     That's  right! 
An  equal  divvy!     An  equal  divvy! 

OTHER  CRIES. 

No,  no,  you  don't!    That's  mine!    That's  ours! 

SAM. 

Comrades,  we're  one! 

CRIES, 

(Of  those  who  have  nothing) 
We're  one!    We're  one! 

OTHER  CRIES. 

(Of  those  with  their  arms  full) 
Every  man  for  himself !    Every  man  for  himself ! 

(Sounds  of  scuffling  and  fighting) 

CRIES. 

Let  loose,  God  damn  you!    Knock  him  downl 

(The  sounds  die  away  left) 
72 


The  Americans 


CRIES. 

(Far  left) 
Tain't  fair!     'Tain't  fair! 

(The  walls  are  heard  sighing) 


VOICE. 

(From  above) 

Who  will  go  down 
Where  all  is  sorrow,  woe,  and  strife, 
Where  unshaped  things  are  jostling  into  life? 
Who  will  go  down? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
I  will. 

VOICE  OF  MRS.  EGERTON. 

(Full  of  anguish) 
Harry !     Harry ! 

( There  is  a  thundering  and  crashing  in  the  dark- 
ness) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

(Quickly  staggering  to  his  knees,  then  to  his  feet) 
Here!  here!    Mother!  mother! 

(Instantly  the  darkness  disappears.     Morning  is 
breaking  over  the  mountains) 
73 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 

(Looks  about.     Clasps  his  head  in  his  hands) 
Horrible!  horrible! 

(Sees  the  ashes  of  the  fire.    Recalls  the  incidents 

of  the  early  night) 
And  went  away. 

(Notices  that  the  boulder  is  gone.     Looks  down 

the  slope,  left) 

The  boulder  thundering  down  the  steep. 
I  must  have  slept  upon  the  ground. 
Ah,  what  is  this? 

(Gets  down  on  his  knees  where  the  boulder  lay) 
The  Mine!    The  Mine!   THE  MINE! 


The  Americans 


ACT  II 

THE  MILL 

Scene:  A  street  showing,  right,  the  great  lumber 
plant  of  the  Egerton  Company.  Centre,  occupying  the 
greater  part  of  the  space  between  left  and  right,  a  sort 
of  common,  overstrewn,  as  such  places  usually  are, 
with  sawdust  and  waste  sowings  of  the  mill,  extends 
back  a  hundred  yards  or  so  to  where  the  river  sweeps 
in  from  behind  a  rising  slope  on  the  left  and  disap- 
pears behind  the  high  fence  of  the  mill-yard  on  the 
right.  Across  the  river,  right,  the  same  denuded  moun- 
tains as  were  seen  in  the  preceding  Act,  and,  centre, 
the  alluvial  stretches  of  the  valley  widening  out  into 
the  plains.  Left  rear,  on  this  side  of  the  river,  a  sort 
of  hill  comes  in  and  upon  its  rather  steep  slope  are 
rows  of  roughly  built  plank  houses  which  have  evi- 
dently been  standing  many  years.  They  are  all  of  one 
design  and  rest  in  the  rear  upon  the  ground,  the  front 
being  propped  up  on  posts,  in  some  cases  six  or  eight 
feet  high.  Of  two  or  three  of  these  shacks  it  would 
seem  that  the  occupants  had  tried  to  have  a  tjarden,  for 
here  and  there  are  small  green  patches  as  of  late  tur- 
nips, also  tall  stakes  with  withered  bean  vines  clinging 
to  them.  From  the  numerous  footpaths  that  come 
down  toward  the  mill-gate  it  is  evident  that  these 
75 


The  Americans 


shacks  are  the  homes  of  the  employees  of  the  Egerton 
Company.  The  mill-yard  on  the  right  is  surrounded 
by  a  high  board-fence.  New  planks  have  recently  been 
put  in  here  and  there,  and  on  top  of  the  fence,  appar- 
ently just  strung,  are  several  rows  of  bright  new 
barbed  wire.  Over  the  top  of  the  fence  and  through 
the  open  gates  of  the  driveway  which  is  in  the  corner, 
a  portion  of  the  latter  having  been  cut  off  for  this  pur- 
pose, are  seen  countless  lumber  stacks,  and  beyond 
these,  far  back  and  facing  left,  a  section  of  an  enormous 
mill.  Along  the  comb  of  the  roof,  doubtless  running 
its  full  length,  is  a  large  red  sign  with  white  letters  of 
which  one  sees  only:  RTON  AND  CO. 

Before  the  entrance  to  the  mill-yard  two  of  the 
State  militia  with  rifles  upon  their  shoulders  patrol  the 
property,  one  of  them  pacing  right  and  left  along  the 
street  in  the  foreground,  the  other  backwards  and  for- 
wards in  the  open  space  that  goes  toward  the  river. 
About  twenty  feet  from  the  entrance  stands  a  large  red 
automobile,  under  which,  stretched  upon  his  back,  lies 
the  chauffeur,  with  his  hands  up  fixing  something. 

As  the  Scene  opens,  the  two  sentries,  one  of  them 
rolling  a  cigarette,  the  other  with  his  gun  behind  his 
head  and  with  his  arms  hanging  over  it,  stand  listen- 
ing back  toward  the  mill,  where  a  number  of  voices 
are  singing,  'There'll  Be  a  Hot  Time  in  the  Old  Town 
To-night.'  When  the  song  is  finished  a  cheer  goes  up. 

Time:  The  afternoon  of  the  next  day  about  four 
o'clock. 

76 


The  Americans 


FIRST  SENTRY. 

All  I  say  is,  keep  your  tobacco  dry 

And  don't  go  wiring  the  folks  at  home 

To  have  your  supper  warm  to-morrow  night. 

CHAUFFEUR. 

They'll  be  to  work,  all  right,  you  take  my  word. 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

There's  such  a  thing  as  eating  words  until 
Your  belly  cries  for  something  solider. 

CHAUFFEUR. 

{Pointing  toward  the  mill) 
You  see  that  smoke  back  there. 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

That's  all  right,  too. 
A  kid  can  start  a  fire. 

CHAUFFEUR. 
Wait  and  see. 

A  MILITIAMAN. 

(Who,    half    way    back    toward    the    mill,    has 

climbed  upon  a  lumber  stack) 
I  nominate  J.  D.  for  Governor. 
77 


The  Americans 


A  VOICE. 


(Farther  back,  commandingly) 
Shut  up  your  mouth  up  there! 


SECOND  VOICE. 

Will  you  be  good? 

( The  militiaman  gets  down  from  the  stack) 

SECOND  SENTRY. 

How  large  a  force  is  it  they're  counting  on? 

CHAUFFEUR. 

It's  not  the  force.     It's  the  effect  'twill  have. 
You  let  a  dog  run  for  another's  bone, 
You'll  see  the  last  dog  do  some  running  too. 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

And  do  some  righting,  maybe. 

CHAUFFEUR. 

That's  up  to  you. 

The  law  protects  men  in  their  right  to  work. 
(The  sentries  whisper  together) 

CHAUFFEUR. 

The  old  man  knows  his  business.    All  he  says 
Is  simply  this,  'I'm  bringing  in  the  men. 
It's  up  to  you  to  get  them  to  the  mill.' 
You  see  you  don't  know  everything,  my  boy. 
78 


The  Americans 


FIRST  SENTRY. 

You  work  for  Egerton,  and  I  don't  blame  you, 
But  when  you  come  right  down  to  solid  facts — 
And  if  you'll  clear  your  eye  a  bit  you'll  see  it — 
He's  got  his  match  in  this  man  Williams. 

CHAUFFEUR. 

What! 

SECOND  SENTRY. 

He's  got  his  match  in  this  man  Williams. 

CHAUFFEUR. 
C-h-rist! 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

Figure  it  out  yourself. 

(He  sees  Wes  Dicey  who,  with  Jim  King  and 
Rome  Masters,  has  just  come  in,  right) 
What  do  you  want? 

DICEY. 

He  knows  me. 

CHAUFFEUR. 
He's  all  right. 

(Careful  to  keep  out  of  sight  of  the  shacks  on  the 
slope,   Dicey  and  his  companions  whisper   to- 
gether near  the  fence.     The  Second  Sentry,  as 
79 


The  Americans 


though   he  had  been  neglecting  his  duty,  goes 
out  right,  patrolling  his  beat) 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

It's  easy  enough 

To  figure  it  out,  I  say.    There's  thirteen  men 
Returned  to  work  in  five  weeks.     In  an  hour 
You  calculate  four  hundred  will  return. 
You  fellows  couldn't  count  nine  pins  for  me. 

(Dicey  and  his  companions  pull  their  hats  down 
over  their  eyes,  their  collars  up  about  their 
necks,  and  make  briskly  for  the  gate} 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

(Starts  back  on  his  beat) 
Talk  of  a  man  like  that  running  the  State. 
He'd  better  learn  to  run  his  business  first. 

(George  Egerton,  looking  spick  and  span,  comes 
out  of  the  mill-yard,  putting  on  one  of  his 
gloves.  He  glances  at  Dicey  and  his  compan- 
ions as  they  pass  in.  Suddenly  he  turns  and 
whistles  after  them  and  saunters  back  into  the 
mill-yard  as  if  to  speak  with  them) 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

(Coming  out  a  little  later) 

O  Jack,  will  you  tell  mother 

80 


The  Americans 


CHAUFFEUR. 
Yes,  sir. 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 
(Provoked} 

What? 
Why  do  you  put  it  that  way?    Now  I've  forgot. 

(Continues  putting  on  his  glove) 
Tell  mother  I've  inquired  of  the  men 
And  they've  seen  nothing  of  him. 

CHAUFFEUR. 
Yes,  sir. 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 
What? 

CHAUFFEUR. 

Nothing  of  Harry,  sir. 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

(Walks  left,  then  comes  back) 
Jack. 

CHAUFFEUR. 
Yes,  sir. 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

Jack. 

Si 


The  Americans 


(Looks  over  in  the  car) 
Did  you  find  any  hair-pins  in  the  car 
This  morning? 

CHAUFFEUR. 

Not  this  morning. 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

(Takes  a  coin  from  his  pocket  and  hands  it  to 

the  chauffeur) 
You'll  take  care. 

(He  goes  out  left,  examining  his  face  in  a  small 
mirror  which  he  has  taken  out  with  the  coin. 
The  Second  Sentry  has  come  in  right  and  stands 
reading  a  notice  which  is  tacked  on  the  fence) 

CHAUFFEUR. 

By  sun-down,  don't  it? 

SECOND  SENTRY. 

Something  of  the  sort. 

CHAUFFEUR. 

And  the  wind  sharpening  up  across  the  plains. 
They'll  think  twice,  won't  they,  before  they  stay 
out? 

SECOND  SENTRY. 

Who  signed  this  na-ne  here? 
82 


The  Americans 


CHAUFFEUR. 

Eg —  the  boss  himself. 

SECOND  SENTRY. 

Hell  of  a  hand  he  writes. 

CHAUFFEUR. 

Your  partner  there 

Knows  about  as  much  of  the  situation  here 
As  a  sea-turtle  knows  of  sassafras. 
Talks  of  a  match.    There's  been  no  match  at  all. 
The  old  man's  never  tried  to  start  the  mill. 
But  let  a  thing  like  that  go  up  some  day. 

(Buck  Bentley  with  an  empty  nail  keg  in  his  hand 
comes  from  the  mill-yard  and  sits  down  with 
his  back  to  the  farther  gate-post  and  begins  to 
fill  his  pipe} 

CHAUFFEUR. 

If  you've  heard  thunder,  one  of  those  loud  claps 
That  ends  the  winter,  and  if  you'd  lived  here 
And  knew  the  old  man's  power,  then  you'd  know 
I'm  shooting  low  when  I  say  they'll  be  here, 
If  they  don't  all  fall  dead  upon  the  way. 
They've  got  to  make  hay  now.     Days  don't  stand 

still 

When  the  old  man  is  moving  to  and  fro. 
(Goes  about  oiling  the  machine) 
83 


The  Americans 


FIRST  SENTRY. 

(Coming  forward) 

If  Williams  comes,  I'll  tell  you  what  he'll  do. 
With  the  big  force  he'll  have  behind  his  back, 
He'll  lock  these  gates  and  coop  the  old  man  up 
With  Jergens  and  the  Chief  and  all  the  rest. 
Then  say,  'Now  take  me  home.'     You  know  the 

way. 
You'll  take  him  to  the  big  house  on  the  hill. 

(The  Chauffeur  turns  and  looks  at  him  half  in 
anger,  half  in  contempt} 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

You  won't  dare  look  at  him  that  way. 

SECOND  SENTRY. 

Dan's  right. 

You  fellows,  you  that  shove  those  things  about, 
You  have  a  way  of  knowing  who's  the  lord. 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

Exactly.    And  this  man  Williams  up  and  down 
Is  big  as  Egerton.     And  the  old  man's  'spike' 
Will  touch  him  where  the  tailors  say  it  should. 
And  if  it's  lined  with  silk  Williams  won't  care. 
He'll  steer  the  big  blow-out  this  afternoon 
And  they  won't  know  the  difference.    It's  the  front 
And  the  big  planet  here  that  people  see  ; 
And  Williams  is  as  broad  as  Egerton. 
84 


The  Americans 


(A    militiaman    comes   hurrying   from   the   mill- 
yard) 

MILITIAMAN. 

Who's  got  a  cigarette  to  trade  for  news? 
You  couldn't  guess  it  in  a  thousand  years. 

SECOND  SENTRY. 
We're  going  home. 

MILITIAMAN. 

Guess  high ;  guess  something  great. 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

The  boys  have  met  the  strikers  at  the  station 
And  we're  all  going  into  action. 

MILITIAMAN. 

Nope. 
Something  the  old  man's  done. 

SECOND  SENTRY. 
What? 

MILITIAMAN. 

Put  her  there. 

(The  Sentry  gives  him  a  cigarette) 
Ordered  us  down  a  big  red  tub  of  punch, 
With  six  or  eight  kegs  of  the  foaming  stuff. 
(The  Sentries  stare  comically  at  one  another) 
85 


The  Americans 


MILITIAMAN. 

Well,  my  tin  soldiers?    Under  a  shot  like  that 
To  stand  as  cold  as  you  do! 

(Shouts  in  the  ear  of  the  First  Sentry) 

Punch,  old  man! 
(To  himself) 
The  wind  of  liquor  and  they've  gone  dead  drunk! 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

(Starts  for  the   mill-gate,  then   turns} 
Who  said  'shut  up'  when  some  man  back  there  cried 
'Hurrah  for  Egerton'? 

MILITIAMAN. 
Cap.  Haskell. 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

(To  the  Second  Sentry) 
Eh? 

SECOND  SENTRY. 
Haskell  to  hell. 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

(Shouting  toward  the  mill) 

Hurrah  for  Egerton 
For  Governor! 

SECOND  SENTRY. 
Hip  hurrah! 

86 


The  Americans 


FIRST  SENTRY. 

Up  with  you,  Buck! 

We'll  have  no  traitors  in  the  camp,  by  God. 
Up  on  your  pins  and  shout  'Hurrah!'  three  times. 
(He  seizes  Bentley  and  they  wrestle  into  the  mill- 
yard) 

SECOND  SENTRY. 

Eight  kegs,  you  say? 

MILITIAMAN. 

(Slapping  him   on  the  back) 

And  punch,  old  man,  and  punch! 
Reception  punch! 

(He  hurries  out  toward  the  mill,    Bentley  enters, 
followed  by  the  First  Sentry) 

SECOND  SENTRY. 

What  do  you  think  of  that? 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

(To  the  Chauffeur,  with  affected  disdain) 
Talk  about  Williams  downing  such  a  man! 

SECOND  SENTRY. 

(Nodding  toward  the  Chauffeur) 
And  he,  too,  in  the  employ  of  Egerton ! 

CHAUFFEUR. 

Fine  pair  of  knaves !    You'll  drink  his  wine  all  right. 
8? 


The  Americans 


SECOND  SENTRY. 

(On  his  way  out,  points  to  the  notice) 
Look  what  a  damn  fine  hand  the  old  man  writes. 
(Goes  out  riff  hi) 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

(On  his  way   back,  to  the  Chauffeur) 
It's  a  good  thing  that  some  men  never  tell. 

(Walks  slowly,  rifle  up;  then  from  rear) 
Hurrah  for  Egerton  for  Governor! 

VOICE  OF  SECOND  SENTRY. 

(Out  right) 
Halt! 

(A  pause) 
Halt! 

(Buck  Bentley  rises  from  the  keg  and  comes  for- 
ward) 
Do  YOU  HEAR! 

(The  Chauffeur  leaps  from  the  car  and  hurries 
forward.     There  is  a  shot) 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

(Running  forward) 
Who  is  it? 

MILITIAMAN. 

(Hurrying  from  the  mill-yard) 
What  was  that? 

(Voices  are  heard  right.     A   moment  later  the 
88 


The  Americans 


Second  Sentry  enters  with  Harvey  Anderson, 
who  carries  in  his  arms  fragments  of  the  cast 
that  has  been  broken  by  the  shot) 

SECOND  SENTRY. 

Where  in  the  hell  have  you  been  living 

That  you  don't  know  enough  to  stop  when 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Pard, 

If  I'd  stop  every  time  some  man  said  stop, 
I'd  still  be  standing  somewhere. 

(He  walks  left,  away  from  the  others,  who  ex- 
change glances  as  if  amazed  at  the  man's  au- 
dacity. He  lays  the  largest  of  the  pieces  upon 
the  ground,  then  looks  among  the  others  in  his 
arms.  Donald  Egerton  and  General  Chad- 
bourne,  both  evidently  dressed  for  a  function, 
the  latter  being  in  full  military  uniform,  brand 
new,  come  quickly  from  the  mill-yard,  followed 
by  J  erg  ens  and  the  Chief  of  Police) 

CHADBOURNE. 
What's  the  trouble? 

SECOND  SENTRY. 

This  man  came  through  the  line.     I  called  three 
times. 

89 


The  Americans 


CHADBOURNE. 

(To  Harvey  Anderson) 
Don't  you  know  better  than  do  such  a  thing? 

CAPTAIN  HASKELL. 

(Comes  from  the  mill-yard,  then  turns  and  calls 

back) 
Stay  where  you  are.     We'll  attend  to  this  affair. 

EGERTON. 

What  business  have  you  here? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

I  just  came  down 
To  look  about  a  bit. 

JERGENS. 

To  look  about! 

You  think  we're  running  a  menagerie? 
Didn't  you  see  these  soldiers?    What  do  you  mean? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(To  the  Chief  of  Police) 

Just  step  back,  pard.     I'm  neither  dog  nor  bear. 
(Back  in  the  mill-yard  militiamen  are  seen  climb- 
ing  on   top   of  lumber  piles   to   see  what  the 
trouble  is) 

EGERTON. 

Came  down  from  where? 
90 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

From  up  there  on  the  mountains. 

JERGENS. 

To  look  about  for  what  ? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Just  anything — 
Just  anything  that's  'round  to  see. 

(He  gets  down  and  begins  to  fit  the  pieces  to- 
gether. The  men  watch  him.  Suddenly  he 
stops  and  looks  about  him) 

Did  I 

(He  rises  and  goes  right  to  where  a  piece  of  the 
cast  lies  upon  the  ground) 

CHIEF  OF  POLICE. 

Shall  I  take  charge  of  him,  Mr.  Egerton? 
I'll  lock  him  up  if  you  say  so. 

CHADBOURNE. 

(As  Anderson  returns) 

Don't  you  know 

That  when  a  sentry  challenges  a  man 
He's  got  the  right  to  shoot  him  in  his  tracks? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
The  risk's  on  me,  pard. 
91 


The  Americans 


CHADBOURNE. 
Eh! 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
The  risk's  on  me. 

CHADBOURNE. 

You  take  care,  sir,  how  you're  addressing  me. 
(Jergens  walks  rear,  takes  from  his  pocket  some 
field  glasses,  which  he  polishes  with  a  handker- 
chief. The  Chauffeur  joins  him.  Chadbourne 
turns  and  says  something  vicious  to  the  Second 
Sentry  ) 

EGERTON. 

How  came  you  by  this  thing? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

I'm  of  the  men 
That  Egerton  sent  out. 

EGERTON. 

Jergens,  is  he 
One  of  our  men? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
(Glancing  up) 
You  Egerton? 

92 


The  Americans 


CHIEF  OF  POLICE. 
He  is. 

JERGENS. 

There's  many  of  them  that  I  never  saw; 
But  he's  got  that,  so  I  suppose  he  is. 

{He  searches  the  mountains  with  his  glasses.  The 
rest  contemplate  him  in  silence.  In  Ander- 
son's eyes,  as  he  watches  them,  there  is  a 
strange,  glad  light.  Indeed  throughout  the 
Scene  his  manner  is  that  of  a  man  who  is  hid- 
ing a  tremendous  triumph) 

HASKELL. 

He's  out  here  with  his  glasses  every  day. 

CHADBOURNE. 

One  of  the  richest  mines  in  all  the  West 

EGERTON. 

Very   rich   mine. 

CHADBOURNE. 

So  I  have  been  informed. 

CHIEF  OF  POLICE. 

Been  lost  for  fifty  years. 

CHADBOURNE. 

But  with  this  thing 

93 


The  Americans 


{Indicating  the  cast) 
You're  almost  sure  to  find  it. 

SECOND  SENTRY. 

(To     First    Sentry,    evidently     meaning     Chad- 
bourne) 
A  damn  fool. 

EGERTON. 

Yes,  we  expect  the  signal  any  day. 

(Dicey,  King,  and  Masters  appear  just  inside  the 
mill-yard  and,  catching  the  eye  of  the  Chauf- 
feur, point  to  Jergens,  who,  later,  hands  the 
glasses  to  the  Chauffeur  and  goes  to  Dicey  in 
the  mill-yard) 

CHIEF  OF  POLICE. 

The  citizens  had  arranged  a  demonstration. 
Flags  were  to  go  up  that  day  and  cannon  boom, 
And  Colonel  Egerton  was  to  make  a  speech. 

EGERTON. 

Yes,  Clayton,  and  I'll  tell  them  something,  too. 

CHIEF  OF  POLICE. 

I  guess  they'll  be  ashamed  to  have  it  now. 

EGERTON. 

didn't  you  stay  out  on  the  mountains? 
94 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Well 

EGERTON. 
Get  tired? 

JERGENS. 
Chief! 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Can't  say 

EGERTON. 

Then  what's  the  trouble? 

(The  Chief  of  Police  joins  Jergens  and  with  the 
three  men  they  disappear  in  the  mill-yard) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Well,  you  see,  Mr.  Egerton,  it's  this  way: 
A  man  can  piece  together  things  like  this, 
But  somehow  you  can't  get  hold  of  that  in  here 
That  goes  to  pieces  when  your  faith  breaks  up. 

EGERTON. 

What  do  you  mean? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

I  never  could  find  gold; 
It  don't  run  in  our  family. 
95 


The  Americans 


EGERTON. 

Rather  late 

In  your  discovery,  it  seems  to  me. 
Why  didn't  you  think  of  it  when  you  first  went  out  ? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Well,  you  know  how  it  is.    You've  seen  a  stone 
Hang  on  a  mountain  side  for  years  sometimes; 
You  don't  know  why;  you  just  don't  notice  it 
Until  some  morning — jump!  she  thunders  down 
And  wakes  a  whole  town  up;  then  you  remember. 
(He  comes  forward  and  looks  off  in  the  direction 
from  which   he  came  as   though   he  were   ex- 
pecting someone) 

EGERTON. 

(To  Chadbourne) 
A  sort  of  luck,  you  see,  this  getting  on. 

CHADBOURNE. 
Predestination. 

EGERTON. 

Yes;  if  a  man's  rich 

He  couldn't  help  but  be.     There's  some  old  lamp, 
An  heirloom  in  his  family,  that  he  rubs. 
And  if  he's  poor,  'Hard  luck.' 

CHADBOURNE. 

Or  been  'ground  down.' 
96 


The  Americans 


EGERTON. 

They're  told  so. 

CHADBOURNE. 
Egerton's  heel. 

EGERTON. 

Old  Egerton's. 

( They  walk  toward  the  automobile) 

CHADBOURNE. 

I  don't  know  what  the  country's  coming  to. 

EGERTON. 

Merchants  are  merchants,  Chadbourne. 

CHADBOURNE. 

I  suppose. 
Captain,  will  you  get  my  overcoat? 

(Haskell,  who  with  the  Chauffeur  has  been  look- 
ing through  the  glasses,  goes  into  the  mill-yard. 
A  number  of  militiamen  who  have  been  hang- 
ing around  the  gate  gather  about  Anderson 
and  they  are  soon  having  a  good  time  together) 

EGERTON. 

What  do  they  care  for  Country  or  for  Art, 
Or  any  of  the  higher  things  of  life? 
'Give  us  this  day  our  daily  trade.'    We  live, 
We  manufacturers,  to  fill  their  tills. 
97 


The  Americans 


CHADBOURNE. 

They're  sowing  dragons'  teeth  and  they  don't  know 
it. 

EGERTON. 

You'll  see  them  to-morrow  when  I  start  the  mill ; 
They'll   tip   their   hats   when    I   pass    through    the 

streets. 

And  you  could  comb  the  town :  they  never  heard  of 
Any  petition  to  the  Governor, 
Nor  any  contributions,  not  a  one. 
They're   all   staunch  friends  of  mine,   and   always 

have  been. 

'Why,  Colonel  Egerton,  he  built  this  town, 
Our  leading  citizen.'     I'll  get  them  though. 

CHADBOURNE. 

If  you  could  shut  down  for  a  season,  say. 

EGERTON. 

That's  just  what  I've  been  wanting  to  do,   Chad- 
bourne. 

Unfortunately,  just  now  we're  in  a  place 
\Vhere  we  can't  do  as  we  would  like  to  do; 
Or  rather  Jergens  is. 

CHADBOURNE. 
He  told  me. 


The  Americans 


EGERTON. 

Yes, 
He's  got  to  meet  his  margins. 

CHADBOURNE. 
It's  too  bad. 

(The  militiamen  laugh  out  at  some  story  Ander- 
son is  telling  them) 

EGERTON. 

So  I  can't  strike  them  without  striking  him. 

CHADBOURNE. 

I  hope  you'll  find  the  mine. 

A  MILITIAMAN. 

(Appearing  at  the  gate) 
'Phone,  General. 

EGERTON. 

I'll  show  them  though  that  J.  D.  don't  forget. 

CHADBOURNE. 
Pardon  me. 

(He  starts  for  the  mill-yard.  With  a  wave  of  his 
hand  he  orders  the  militiamen  back  through 
the  gate) 

99 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(Aloud,  as  they  draw  away) 

And  we  charging  up  that  Hill 
As  if  we  didn't  know  what  canned  beef  was, 
We,  when  we'd  had  slow  elk*  out  on  the  plains. 
(Egerton  goes  rear  to  the  Chauffeur  and  himself 
adjusts  the  glasses  to  his  eyes) 

A  MILITIAMAN. 

(As  they  pass  through  the  gate) 
Stay  and  have  one  with  us. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
After  business  hours. 

EGERTON. 

Where  did  you  leave  off? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Where  the  big  rock  hangs 
On  the  south  slope  up  yonder. 

(Dicey,  King,  and  Masters  come  from  the  mill- 
yard,  followed  by  Jergens.  Dicey  is  dividing 
money  with  his  companions) 

DICEY. 

Thank  you,  boss. 

*  Stolen  cattle 

100 


The  Americans 


JERGENS. 

Then  call  me  up. 

DICEY. 
I  will. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
It  ain't  there  now. 

{The  three  men  go  out  around  the  corner  right. 
J  erg  ens  joins  Egerton  and  the  Chauffeur. 
Harvey  Anderson  watches  them  in  silence) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

And  that's  another  reason  I  came  down 

To  hear  those  cannon  boom  and  see  those  flags. 

You'll  have  a  band  play  too? 

(With  his  eyes  fixed  upon  them  he  slowly  shoves 
his  foot  through  the  cast  and  it  falls  to  pieces. 
He  stands  still  for  a  moment.  He  then  picks 
up  his  hatchet  and  roll  of  blankets,  and,  going 
to  the  gate,  throws  them  into  the  mill-yard. 
He  does  the  same  with  the  fragments  of  the 
cast,  first  carrying  an  armful  which  he  empties 
inside,  then  coming  back  and  picking  up  the 
last  two  or  three  pieces,  which  he  jerks  in  after 
the  others. 

The  First  Sentry,  coming  from  rear,  signals 
to   the  Second  Sentry,  who   is  passing   on  his 
beat.     The  latter  waits  and,  having  heard  what 
the  former  had  to  say,  starts  off) 
101 


The  Americans 


SECOND  SENTRY. 

(Evidently  quoting  Chadbourne) 

'Tried  to  get  smart 
And  hit  the  cast  to  see  the  pieces  fly.' 

(  The  First  Sentry  starts  back  on  his  beat,  laugh- 
ing) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(As  the  Second  Sentry  passes  him) 
It's  steel  you're  shooting,  ain't  it? 

SECOND  SENTRY. 
Go  to  hell. 
(Goes  out) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
It's  all  right,  partner. 

(Like  a  great  boy  he  stands  tossing  his  hat  into 
the  air  and  trying  to  catch  it.  Egerton  and 
Jergens  regard  him  and  seem  to  be  saying  some- 
thing about  him.  Jergens  goes  into  the  mill- 
yard) 

EGERTON. 

(Comes  to  Anderson) 

In  the  line  of  work, 
What  have  you  ever  done? 
103 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Most  everything, 

From  punching  cattle  down  to  hunting  gold. 
But  chiefly  knocked  about  among  the  States. 

EGERTON. 

Drinking  and  gambling? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Some  of  that  in  too. 

(  The  Chauffeur  goes  into  the  mill-yard) 

EGERTON. 

There's  something  in  you  that  I  like,  my  man. 
You  go  about  things  in  a  way.    And  then 
The  daring  that  you  showed.    You're  full  of  life; 
A  man  can  see  that.    Tended  cattle,  eh? 
Think  you  could  govern  men  and  round  them  up 
If  need  be? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
I  don't  know. 

(Tosses  his  hat  into  the  air) 

EGERTON. 

You  don't  belong 
To  a  Union? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
No. 

J03 


The  Americans 


EGERTON. 

You're  not  the  sort  of  man 
To  stand  dictation.     You've  a  work  to  do, 
Men  of  your  type.    I  think  I  heard  you  say 
That  you  were  with  the  rangers  at  San  Juan? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

I  did  some  time  down  there. 

EGERTON. 

Well  spent,  my  boy. 
I  had  a  brother  in  the  Civil  War. 

(Watches  Anderson  catching  his  hat) 
That  was  a  good  one.     I  know  how  you  feel; 
So  full  of  life  you  don't  care  what  comes  on. 
'Out  of  the  way!'    It's  rare  enough  these  days. 
You'd  be  surprised  what  cowards  most  men  are, 
Big  six  foot  fellows  who  want  to  go  to  work; 
Offer  it  to  them  and  they  shake  their  heads 
Because  they  see  some  pickets  round  the  corner. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
'Fraid  of  your  soldiers? 

EGERTON. 

Pickets;  Union  men. 

They'd  fly  to  arms  quick  enough  if  Charlie  Hare — 
Charlie's  our  Mayor — said  'No  more  free  speech.' 
But  Williams  he  can  say,  'No  more  free  work.' 
They'd  rather  talk,  you  see,  than  be  free  men. 
104 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
That's  a  good  phrase,  'Free  Work.' 

EGERTON. 

A  good  'phrase,'  yes. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

We  ought  to  put  that  in  our  Bill  of  Rights. 

EGERTON. 

Our  Bill  of  Rights,  my  boy,  's  no  more  than  air. 
It's  men  to  back  it  up.    We've  gone  to  seed 
In  Sabbath  speculations  on  men's  rights. 
What  we  need  now  is  Monday  morning's  work. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

This  Williams,  I  suppose,  has  gotten  rich 
Controlling  all  these  men? 

EGERTON. 

That  I  don't  know. 

It's  not  so  much  the  few  that  he  controls 
As  the  large  numbers  they  intimidate. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Got  to  accept  his  terms  or  not  work,  eh  ? 

EGERTON. 

They  have  a  thing  they  call  the  'Union  Scale.' 
(Looks  at  his  watch) 

105 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

And  these  men  that  can't  work,  they  stand  for  that, 
Having  no  voice  at  all  in  their  affairs? 

EGERTON. 

They  don't  see;  they're  a  lot  of  ignorant  men. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Why  don't  you  show  them? 

(Egerton  smiles,  walks  to  the  gate  and  listens, 
then  comes  back) 

EGERTON. 

Out  on  the  plains,  my  boy, 
Tending  your  cattle,  did  you  speak  with  them 
And  reason  with  them? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
With  the  cattle? 

EGERTON. 
Yes. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

It  all  depends  upon  the  mood  they're  in. 
Sometimes  a  man  can  just  sit  on  his  horse, 
If  the  feed's  good;  and  sometimes  in  the  night, 
If  a  storm's  brewing,  then  it's  best  to  sing; 
106 


The  Americans 


Go  round  them  this  way — 

(Circles  and  sings  one  of  the  strange  melodies  of 
the  cowboys) 

for  they're  restless  then. 

EGERTON. 

Sing  to  your  cattle? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Let  them  know  you're  friends 
All  out  together  and  a  big  storm  on. 

EGERTON. 

That's  interesting. 

(Anderson  comes  forward  and  looks  off  right,  the 
direction  from  which  he  came,  as  though  he 
were  expecting  some  one) 

EGERTON. 

We've  got  an  opening  here 
I  think  would  suit  you. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Well. 

EGERTON. 

In  half  an  hour, 

Or  less  than  that,  there'll  be  a  lot  of  men 
Come  from  the  station,  the  force  I'm  bringing  in, 
107 


The  Americans 


Guarded  by  soldiers;  then,  if  I  guess  right, 
The  Union — they'll  be  crowding  here  for  work, 
Wanting  to  go  to  work,  you  understand, 
But  with  their  eye  on  Williams.     He'll  say  'No.' 
But  there's  another  faction  will  say  'Yes.' 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
And  while  they're  balanced 

EGERTON. 

That's  just  what  I  want. 

You've  got  a  good  cool  head,  and  you  know  men. 
And  then  you  have  a  way  of  putting  things. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Make  'em  a  little  speech? 

EGERTON. 

I  don't  care  how. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Just  get  'em  in  your  pen,  eh  ? 

EGERTON. 

It's  their  last  chance. 
And  I  can  say,  my  boy,  if  you  make  good 
And  prove  to  be  the  man  we're  looking  for, 
I'll  push  you  on  as  fast  as  you  can  go. 
My  partner  here  was  one  that  proved  himself. 
108 


The  Americans 


And  then  next  year  we'll  take  my  other  mills 
And  break  this  Union  thing  or  we'll  know  why. 
>A  shot  or  two  for  your  own  land,  you  see. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Free  Work. 

EGERTON. 
Free  Mills. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Free  men. 
(Starts  left) 

EGERTON. 

You  know  the  way? 

(Egerton  turns  and  goes  into  the  mill-yard) 

SECOND  SENTRY. 

(Comes  in  right  and  meets  the  First  Sentry,  who 

has  just  come  forward) 
Damn  stuck-up  fool!    Just  because  Egerton 
Invites  him  to  his  house. 

FIRST  SENTRY. 
He's  got  a  corn. 

SECOND  SENTRY. 

I  hope  they'll  tramp  it  off. 
109 


The  Americans 


(The  First  Sentry  quickly  signals  that  some  one 
is  coming  toward  the  gate) 

• 

SECOND  SENTRY. 
God,  I  don't  care. 

(The  Chauffeur  comes  hurriedly  from  the  mill- 
yard  and  goes  and  gets  into  the  car.  A  mo- 
ment later  General  Chadbourne  and  Captain 
Haskell  appear) 

CHADBOURNE. 

And  I'll  be  there  till  nine  or  ten  o'clock, 
Or  even  later,  for  we've  some  important 
Matters  to  attend  to.    And  besides 
It's  going  to  be  a  very  fine  affair. 

HASKELL. 
All  right,  sir. 

CHADBOURNE. 

You  won't  need  me,  though,  I'm  sure. 
Things  seem  to  be  all  quiet  at  the  station. 

SECOND  SENTRY. 

(As  he  goes  out) 
Ass! 

HASKELL. 

We'll  break  camp  to-morrow,  I  suppose 
no 


The  Americans 


CHADBOURNE. 

That's  what  I  had  in  mind  a  while  ago! 

I'm  glad  you  spoke  of  it.     When  they  pass  these 

gates, 

You  be  here,  Haskell,  and  you  get  me  word. 
I  want  to  be  the  first  to  break  the  news 
To  Egerton  and  the  Governor;  want  to  say: 
'I  have  the  honor  to  report  to  you, 
Your  Excellency, 

And  it  gives  me  pleasure  to  announce  to  you 
Upon  the  occasion  of  the  opening 
Of  your  new  mansion,  Colonel  Egerton, 
This  bit  of  news,  sir,  from  the  military, 
And  I  offer  it  with  our  congratulations, 
The  strike  is  over ' 

VOICE  OF  JERGENS. 

(Back  In  the  mill-yard) 
General  Chadbourne! 

CHADBOURNE. 

Yes!— 

'The  men  have  yielded  and  have  gone  to  work ; 
And  all's  been  done  without  one  drop  of  bloodshed, 
Thanks  to  the  Governor  and  to  your  co-operation 
And  to  the  splendid  service  of  the  boys. 
To-morrow  we  break  camp  and  go  our  ways. 
Health  to  you  and  long  life  and  peace  hereafter 
In  your  new  home.'    Or  something  of  the  sort. 
I  haven't  whipped  it  into  final  shape. 
in 


The  Americans 


HASKELL. 

And  got  off,  I  suppose,  with  glasses  lifted. 
'Twill  be  a  nice  green  feather  in  our  cap. 

CHADBOURNE. 

And  duty  done,  it's  well  to  have  big  friends. 
There's  that  old  question  of  the  armory; 
I'm  going  to  try  to  jam  it  through  this  session. 
And  besides  that — 

{Calls  toward  the  gate) 
What's  up? 

JERGENS. 

(Enters  with  the  Chief  of  Police) 

How  large  a  force 
Did  you  send  to  the  station? 

CHADBOURNE. 
Why  do  you  ask? 

JERGENS. 

There's  talk  of  violence  among  the  men. 

CHIEF  OF  POLICE. 

Some  even  go  so  far  as  to  advocate 
Marching  upon 

JERGENS. 

That,  Chief,  may  all  be  bluster. 
112 


The  Americans 


For  this  man  Dicey — these  men  have  a  way 
Of  making  things  look  bad  to  extort  money 
And  earn  them  credit  if  they  turn  out  well. 

CHIEF  OF  POLICE. 

As  a  precaution  though. 

JERGENS. 

I've  no  objection. 

(Egerton  comes  from  the  mill-yard) 

CHIEF  OF  POLICE. 

You'd  better  throw  a  guard  about  the  house. 
You  see  it's  out  of  my  jurisdiction. 

EGERTON. 

Coming  to  see  me,  eh? 

JERGENS. 

I  don't  believe  it. 

(Chadbourne  talks  aside  with  Haskell) 

CHIEF  OF  POLICE. 

To  see  the  Governor,  they  say. 

EGERTON. 

All  right. 

(Gets  into  the  automobile) 
They'll  find  him  in  the  southwest  room  upstairs 
"3 


The  Americans 


When  the  train  comes.     Have  them  clean  off  their 
feet. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

(Who  has  just  come  in,  left) 
Clean  off  whose  feet? 

EGERTON. 

Yours,  Ardsley.    Step  right  in. 

( The  Chief  of  Police  goes  out,  left) 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

What's  the  news  now? 

EGERTON. 

The  news  is  that  you've  got 
Barely  an  hour  to  get  on  your  togs. 

(Ardsley  unbuttons  his  light  overcoat  and  shows 
his  full  dress) 

EGERTON. 

You  editors  are  smart  men. 

(Chadbourne  gets  in  behind  with  Egerton,  Ards- 
ley in  front  with  the  Chauffeur) 

CHADBOURNE. 

(As  they  go  out  right) 
Don't  forget,  Haskell. 

(Jergens  lingers  about  as  though  undecided  what 
114 


The  Americans 


to  do.  Finally  he  goes  left  and  saunters  down 
the  street.  Haskell  enters  the  mill-yard.  Later 
an  old  woman,  who  has  evidently  been 
waiting  till  the  mill-owners  left,  comes  down 
the  hill-side  rear  left  and  begins  to  pick  up 
sticks  that  He  scattered  about  in  the  sawdust} 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

(Who  finally  sees  her) 
Get  out ! 

OLD  WOMAN. 

They're  thrown  away. 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 

(Who  has  come  from  the  mill-yard  and  resumed 

his  seat  on  the  keg) 
Let  her  alone. 

OLD  WOMAN. 

God  help  us  if  we  can't  have  even  sticks 
That's  thrown  out. 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

Let  your  old  man  go  to  work. 

OLD  WOMAN. 

Then  let  'em  pay  fair  wages.    Ain't  they  all 
Wantin'  to  work?    What's  the  poor  to  do, 


The  Americans 


Things  goin'  up  an'  wages  goin'  down? 
What's  the  poor  to  do  ? 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

That's  your  look-out.    Move  on! 

(He  starts  toward  the  old  woman.  Buck  Bent- 
ley  knocks  the  ashes  from  his  pipe  and  goes  to- 
ward the  First  Sentry) 

SECOND  SENTRY. 

(Who  has  been  watching) 
Know  what  you're  doing,  Buck? 

(There  is  a  fight.  Bentley  takes  the  rifle  from 
the  First  Sentry  who,  in  a  rage,  starts  for  the 
gate) 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

If  this  goes  by 

I'll  show  the  regiment  a  thing  or  two. 
I'll  jump  the  Service,  that's  what  I'll  do. 

(He  hurries  into  the  mill-yard.  Bentley  helps 
the  old  woman  pick  up  the  sticks) 

OLD  WOMAN. 

I  thought  they'd  never  go.    God  bless  you,  son. 
(Starts  up  the  slope) 

SECOND  SENTRY. 

We'll  see,  by  God,  who's  running  this  shebang. 
116 


The  Americans 


OLD  WQMAN. 

You  ain't  heard  nothin'  from  the  station  yet  ? 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 

No,  mother. 

(  The  old  woman  goes  out.     Bentley  comes  to  the 
gate  and  sets  the  rifle  against  the  fence) 

SECOND  SENTRY. 

( Talking  into  the  mill-yard) 
He  even  helped  her  fill  her  apron. 

HASKELL. 

(Entering  with  the  First  Sentry) 
Have  you  gone  crazy,  Buck  ?    What  do  you  mean  ? 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 

(Fills  his  pipe) 
Is  this  the  Company's  property  out  here? 

HASKELL. 

We've  got  our  orders  and  that  settles  it. 
Don't  settle  it  with  you,  eh  ? 

A  MILITIAMAN. 

(From  the  top  of  a  lumber  stack) 
Here  they  come! 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

In  other  words  you'll  do  as  you  damn  please. 
117 


The  Americans 


(Haskell  comes  forward  and  looks  down  the 
street,  left) 

HASKELL. 

Now  shut  your  mouths. 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

I'm  not  through  with  this  yet. 

(Picks  up  his  rifle  and  goes  back  on  his  beat) 

SECOND  SENTRY. 

Damn  pretty  soldier  you  are. 

HASKELL. 
Do  you  hear? 

{Militiamen  are  seen  climbing  on  top  of  the  lum- 
ber stacks.  Others  appear  at  the  gate.  Cap- 
tain Haskell  walks  left  where  a  noise  is  heard 
down  the  street.  Presently  a  squad  of  militia 
enters  with  fifteen  or  twenty  strike-breakers. 
Behind  them,  with  the  officer  in  charge,  comes 
Jergens,  who  is  speaking  to  the  crowd  of  strik- 
ers that  follows.  In  front  of  the  crowd  walks 
Sam  Williams.  Mingling  among  the  men  are 
seen  Dicey,  King,  and  Masters.  Some  women 
and  children  straggle  in  and  linger,  left.  On 
this  side  of  the  crowd,  silent,  watching  every- 
thing, is  Harvey  Anderson) 

uS 


The  Americans 


JERGENS. 

The  world  is  big  and  we  can  get  the  men. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

That's  all  right,  Mr.  Jergens. 

JERGENS. 

All  we  want, 
And  more  too. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 
That's  all  right. 

JERGENS. 

We've  shown  you  that. 
If  not,  stick  it  out;  that's  all  I've  got  to  say. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

The  point  is  now  about  the  saws.    Will  you 
Put  the  guards  on? 

VOICE. 

(From  the  crowd) 
There  where  the  boys  were  killed. 

JERGENS. 

We  will  or  will  not,  as  it  suits  ourselves. 
119 


The  Americans 


VOICE. 

(From  the  crowd) 
About  our  places,  Sam. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

If  they  come  back, 

You'll  give  the  boys  the  places  that  they  had, 
All  of  them? 

(The  militia,  with  the  strike-breakers,  pass  into 
the  mill-yard) 

VOICE. 

(From  the  crowd) 
Will  we  get  our  places  back? 


JERGENS. 

The  places  that  have  not  been  filled  are  yours. 
As  for  discharging  men  that  we've  brought  here, 
Not  one. 

(He  says  something  to  Haskell,  then  turns  to  the 
crowd) 

Now  just  one  word.     When  these 

gates  close, 

You're  out.    You  understand  that,  do  you?    Out 
Not  for  to-day,  to-morrow,  or  six  weeks, 
But  all  time.    You've  got  just  ten  minutes  left. 
Then,  Captain,  close  these  gates. 
120 


The  Americans 


HASKELL. 
All  right,  sir. 

(Jerffens  passes  into  the  mill-yard) 

VOICE. 

{From  the  crowd) 
Well? 

ANOTHER  VOICE. 

What  do  you  say,  Sam? 

JIM  KING. 

Williams  has  had  his  say. 
And  you  see  where  we  are. 

ROME  MASTERS. 
HearWes! 

JIM  KING. 
Wes! 

SEVERAL. 
Sam! 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

I  don't  know,  comrades,  as  I  ought  to  say, 

Seeing  as  I  don't  gain  or  lose  in  this. 

For  I'm  of  them  that  have  no  place  in  there. 

But  if  you  want  my 

121 


The  Americans 


CRIES. 

Yes,  go  on !    Go  on ! 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

Well,  comrades,  it's  the  Union  first  with  me. 
That  props  the  rest.     You  take  that  prop  away 
And  everything  comes  down.     We've  climbed  a  bit 
Since  we  first  organized.    And  what  we've  won, 
What    is    it    that    keeps    it    won?      The    Union, 

comrades, 
Is  just  another  name  for  all  of  us. 

JERGENS. 

(Appearing  at  the  gate) 
Another  thing.     If  you  don't  come  to  work 
We'll  want  those  shacks  up  there.    Remember  that. 

(Goes  out) 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

And  we  need  something  bigger  than  we  are, 
Don't  we,  if  they  do  with  their  mills  and  lands? 
You  heard  Aug.  Jergens  what  he  said  just  now 
When  Chris  here  called  to  him,  'But  you  unite.' 
You  heard  him  say,  'That's  none  of  your  affair.' 
Then  how's  it  their  affair  if  we  unite? 
Logs  you  can't  handle,  but  you  saw  them  up, 
Then  you  can  handle  them.     It's  the  same  with  us; 
They  want  to  handle  us  to  suit  themselves. 
Comrades,  I  don't  see  if  you  go  in  there 
122 


The  Americans 


How  you'll  not  have  to  come  out  here  again; 
Unless  you  mean  to  bear  whatever  conies. 
You'll  hear  no  big  voice,  'Then  we'll  all  go  out,' 
That's  kept  their  hands  from  off  you  many  a  time. 
Or  is  it  their  mercy  that  you're  counting  on? 
Poor  hold  you've  got  there.    One  window  yonder 
Of  Egerton's  big  house  would  put  the  guards 
About  the  saws.    But  you  hear  what  he  says. 
And  it's  our  lives  he's  talking  of. 

A  WOMAN. 

(To  another  who  begins  to  cry) 
Never  mind. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

What  is  it  that  gives  him  power  to  talk  that  way  ? 
Why  is  it  he  can  do  that, 
(Lifts  his  hand) 

and  trains  come  in 

With  soldiers?     We  can't  do  it.    And  they're  two 
And  we're  four  hundred. 

JIM  KING. 

That  don't  get  us  bread. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

Is  it  because  they  own  the  mills  and  lands? 
It's  only  when  they  own  us  that  they're  strong. 
Comrades,  you've  come  now  where  the  ways  divide. 
123 


The  Americans 


There's  bigger  gates  than  these  stand  open  here 
If  you'll  just  stick  together.     'Tain't  to-day 
I'm  thinking  of.     There's  a  green  shore  somewhere 
If  you'll  just  turn  your  faces  from  that  gate. 
But  if  you're  going  to  give  your  Union  up 
When  they  say  if  you  don't  we'll  close  these  gates, 
You'll  have  no  peace.    They'll  hold  it  over  you 
To  force  you  down.     Comrades,  the  day  will  come 
When  you'll  regret  it  if  you  go  in  there, 
Giving  your  Union  up.     But  that's  with  you. 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 

Sam's  right.     We  can't  be  slaves,  men. 

KING  AND  MASTERS. 
Wes!     Hear  Wes! 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 

Let's  march  on  out  to  Egerton's  big  house 
And  call  the  Governor  out  and  lay  our  case 
Before  him. 

CRIES. 

Right!    That's  right! 

A  VOICE. 

First  let's  go  home 

And  get  the  women  folk  and  all  march  out. 
124 


The  Americans 


MIKE  HAWLEY. 

You  talk  like  fools.    Ain't  Braddock,  too,  a  slave? 
He's  'bout  as  big  to  Egerton  as  your  thumb. 

WES  DICEY. 

It  seems  to  me  like,  boys,  we're  in  a  boat. 
We've  pulled  together  hard  as  any  men 
Tryin'  to  make  the  shore  off  there.    But  here 
She's  leakin'  and  our  biscuits  have  give  out. 
The  question  now  is,  hadn't  we  better  make 
For  this  shore  here  ?    It  ain't  the  one  we  want  ; 
But  here  there's  bread  and  water.     But  they  say — 
And  this  it  is  that  seems  to  rub  Sam  most — 
'Scuttle  your  boat  or  you  don't  land  here.'     Well, 
Scuttle  her,  then  I  say. 
(Hisses  from  the  crowd) 

Now  you  hold  on. 
I  love  the  Union  much  as  any  man. 
And  I've  stood  by  her,  too,  through  thick  and  thin. 
Ain't  I  stood  by  her,  boys? 

JIM  KING. 

Wes  is  our  friend. 

WES  DICEY. 

And  will  again.    Then  what  do  I  mean  ?    Just  this : 
It's  a  queer  shore  ain't  got  a  cove  or  two 
Where  you  can  hide  her.     I  don't  mean  to  say 
That  Sam  ain't  done  his  best  to  captain  us; 

to* 


The  Americans 


He  has.     But  here  she  is,  she's  goin'  down, 
So  I  say  land.     For  bread  tastes  mighty  good, 
And  air  this  time  o'  year  won't  keep  you  warm 
If  you're  turned  out.     Later,  we  get  our  strength, 
We'll  patch  her  up  and  make  for  that  green  shore 
Sam  talks  of.    But  just  now  it's  this  or  this. 

(Points  toward  the  mill,  then  to  the  ground) 
And  if  we  go  down,  then  where 's  your  Union  ?  Eh  ? 

A  VOICE. 
He's  right. 

ROME  MASTERS. 

But  if  we  live,  then  it  lives  too. 

WES  DICEY. 

So  it's  the  Union  that  I'm  speakin'  for. 

JIM  KING. 

He's  speakin'  for  our  wives  and  children  too. 

A  VOICE. 

What  about  us  whose  places  have  been  filled  ? 

ANOTHER  VOICE. 

You  want  us  all  to  go  down,  eh? 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 
No! 

126 


The  Americans 


SEVERAL. 
No! 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Pards, 

I'm  one  of  Egerton's  men,  if  you'll  let  me 
Butt  in  here  just  a  minute  with  a  word. 
You've  seen   two   sides   of  this   thing,    but   there's 

three. 

There's  one  big  black  one  you  don't  face  at  all, 
Even  your  Captain  here.    You're  all  right,  pard, 
In  what  you  say  about  their  mills  and  lands 
Not  giving  them  power ;  it's  their  owning  you. 
And  if  you'll  just  tear  up  that  bill  of  sale 
And  call  the  deal  off,  Egerton's  big  shadow 
That  fills  the  valley,  lengthening  year  by  year 
Until  your  hair  stands  up,  you'll  be  surprised 
How  you  can  cover  it  with  a  six-foot  pole. 
For  it's  on  you  he's  standing. 

WES  DICEY. 
Who  are  you? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

But  look  here,  pards,  are  you  calling  off  this  sale 

Or  simply  trying,  as  it  seems  to  me, 

To  make  him  take  the  goods  at  the  old  price? 

HASKELL. 

What  have  you  got  to  do  with  it? 
127 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

And  what's  the  price? 
Where's  all  that  gone? 

(Points  to  the  mountains) 

Were  those  just  weeds  up  there 
That's  been  cleared  off  to  get  a  better  view  ? 
Or  Christmas  trees? 

JIM  KING. 
Who  are  you? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

And  loaded,  too, 
With  food  and  clothes  and  homes  and  silks  and 

gems 

And  punch  that  bubbles  till  she  runs  down  here, 
Flushing  the  soldier  boys  until  they're  gay 
And  on  their  mettle.    Is  his  name  Egerton 
That  planted  all  those  pines? 
(Points  to  the  sky) 

WES  DICEY. 

What's  it  to  you  ? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Worked  all  these  years  and  yet  you've  got  no  bread  ? 

HASKELL. 

(Coming  toward  him) 

What  business  is  it  of  yours  what  these  men  do? 
128 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Handled  all  that  and  yet  you've  got  no  rcof 
To  cover  you! 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 

(Following  Haskell) 
Look  here,  Cap. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

And  this  man  comes 

And  cracks  his  whip,  'We'll  oust  you.'     What  do 
you  say? 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 

We  came  down  here  to  see  the  square  thing  done, 
Not  to  take  sides  and  try  to  break  this  strike. 
(Haskell  stares  at  him  in  amazement) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
What's  your  name? 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 
Bentley. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

I'll  remember  that. 
And  my  name's  Anderson. 
(They  shake  hands) 

129 


The  Americans 


HASKELL. 

(Beckoning  to  the  militiamen  about  the  gate) 

Three  or  four  of  you. 
I  give  you  ten  days  in  the  guard  house,  Buck. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

You  won't  be  there  two  hours,  pard,  take  my  word. 
There's  something  going  to  drop  here  pretty  soon. 

HASKELL. 

(Calls  after  the  militiamen) 
Tell  Mr.  Jergens  to  step  here  a  minute. 
(Bent ley  is  led  away  into  the  mill-yard) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
(To  the  crowd) 

God  playing  Santa  Claus  among  the  pines — 
Why  ain't  you  fellows  had  your  stockings  up? 
Or  if  you  have,  what  are  you  doing  here 
Weighing  yourselves  out  on  the  same  old  scales, 
Men  against  bread?    Pard,  let  me  ask  you  this: 
Suppose  you  do  land  with  your  Union  boat, 
The  bosses  on  the  shore  saying  all  right; 
What  is  it  you  land  for?    Grub  for  another  cruise? 
And  you'll  go  back  then  to  the  fishing  grounds 
And  sink  your  nets  again  ?    Who'll  get  the  catch 
This  time?    Them  that's  had  it  all  these  years? 
You've  made  a  big  haul  here,  it  seems  to  me, 
Minnows  and  all.    Hundreds  of  miles  like  that. 
130 


The  Americans 


When  are  you  fellows  going  to  dry  your  nets, 
Haul  up  your  boat  and  say,  'Let's  weigh  the  fish'? 
What  do  you  say,  pard? 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 
You  a  Union  man? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

I  don't  know  much  about  your  Union,  pard. 
It's  all  right,  I  suppose,  far  as  it  goes. 
But  tell  me  this — and  here's  your  black  side,  men — 
Long  as  they  own  the  sea 

(Points  to  the  mountains  and  the  plains) 

and  own  the  shore, 
(Points  to  the  mill) 
You  think  they'll  care  much,  pard,  who  owns  the 

boat? 

And  how'll  they  not  own  you  ?    You  tell  me  that. 
(Williams  and  the  crowd  stand  silent) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
What  do  you  say? 

HASKELL. 

(Watch  in  hand) 
You've  got  two  minutes  left. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Two  minutes  left  of  freedom.     What  do  you  say? 
You've  got  no  North  to  look  to,  you  white  men. 


The  Americans 


A  WOMAN. 

(With  a  child  in  her  arms) 
If  you  go  in  there,  John,  don't  you  come  home. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Bully  for  you,  sister! 

THE  WOMAN. 

Don't  you  dare  come  home. 
We  ain't  starved  with  you,  you  to  sell  yourself. 

WES  DICEY. 

It's  either  go  back,  boys,  or  we'll  be  tramps\ 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

There's  thousands  of  them  of?  there  good  as  you. 
You'd  sell  your  soul  to  Egerton  for  bread. 
They  keep  theirs  and  go  round  the  back  door. 

VOICE. 

(From  the  crowd) 
Well? 

JIM  KING. 
Listen  to  me. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

Comrades,  they  can't  start  up; 
They've  not  the  men. 

132 


The  Americans 


WES  DICEY. 

Suppose  they  don't  start  up  ? 
Suppose  they  shut  down  till  the  ice  blocks  there? 
Then  where'll  we  be? 

JIM  KING. 

You'll  hear  the  children  cry. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Shut  up  your  mouths  or,  if  you're  married  men, 
Let  your  wives  speak.     'You'll  hear   the  children 

cry!' 

Where  in  the  hell  do  you  hail  from  any  way? 
Or  have  they  starved  you  till  you've  lost  your  grit? 

HASKELL. 
One  minute. 

VOICE. 

(From  the  crowd) 
Bread ! 

ANOTHER. 

What  will  we  do,  Sam? 

ANOTHER. 
Vote! 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

I've  said  my  last  word. 

133 


The  Americans 


WES  DICEY. 

We've  no  time  to  vote. 

VOICE. 

(From  afar,  right) 

Wait! 

JIM  KING. 
Be  quick. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Hold  on! 

WES  DICEY. 

Boys,  suppose  they  say, 

'First  come,   first  served,   and   we   don't  need   the 
rest'  ? 

JIM  KING. 

(Calling  attention  to  the  first  flakes  of  snow) 
Look  at  these  flakes,  men! 

(There  is  a  stampede  for  the  gate) 

AN  OLD  WOMAN. 
Run,  Tommy! 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(Drawing  from  his  pocket  a  long  blue  revolver) 
Halt! 

134 


The  Americans 


The  first  man  puts  his  foot  inside  that  gate 
I'll  kill  him. 

VOICE. 

(Right  as  before,  now  near  by) 
One  word  before  you  go  in  there! 
(Harry  Egerton  enters  breathless) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Pardon  me;  I  have  run  some  seven  miles 
To  be  here  ere  the  sun  went  down,  for  I 
Knew  what  it  meant  to  you. 

(Stands  for  a  moment  collecting  himself) 

Men,  my  friends, 
What  is  it  you  are  about  to  do? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
They're  going  back. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(As  Harry  Egerton  seems  about  to  speak) 
Now  listen,  boys,  for  now  you'll  hear  a  word 
That  you'll  remember  till  the  crack  o'  doom. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

I  wouldn't  do  it,  friends,  if  I  were  you. 
What  will  to-morrow  be  and  the  next  day 
And  years  to  come  if  you  surrender  now? 
You  have  your  strength  and  right  is  on  your  side. 
135 


The  Americans 


I  in  my  father's  offices  have  struck 

The  balances  between  you  men  and  him. 

I  know  what  part  you've  had  of  all  these  trees 

And  what  part  he  has  had,  and  in  my  heart 

I  know  there  is  a  balance  on  your  side. 

Things  can't  go  on  forever  in  this  way. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Now  the  snow  falls  they're  afraid  the  wolf  will 
howl. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Will  you  be  stronger  then  a  year  from  now, 
Your  Union  broken  up,  your  wages  less, 
And  this  defeat  behind  you  dampening  all? 
Or  do  you  intend  henceforth  never  to  lift 
The  voice  of  protest,  silent  whatever  comes? 
God  will  provide,  my  friends.     Do  not  give  up. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
(Comes  to  him} 
Tell  'em  about  it,  partner. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
Not  yet. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Why? 

136 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 

Xheir  enemies  would  say  it  was  the  gold. 
And  we  must  show  them  that  they're  wrong. 

A  WORKMAN. 
Look  out! 

JERGENS. 

(With  a  stick  he  has  picked  up  comes  from  the 

mill-yard) 
What  do  you  mean  by  interfering  here? 

(He  discovers  Harvey  Anderson  talking  with 
Harry  Egerton  and  turns,  evidently  for  an  ex- 
planation, to  Haskell) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

You've  filed  your  claim  though? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
Yes. 

(Jubilant,  Harvey  Anderson  turns  and,  catching 
up  one  of  the  mill-boys,  lifts  him  over  his  head 
and  slides  him  down  his  back,  holding  him  by 
the  feet.  Jergens  advances  toward  him) 

A  WORKMAN. 

Look  out,  comrade! 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

I  wouldn't  try  it,  pard,  if  I  were  you. 
137 


The  Americans 


JERGENS. 

(To  the  men) 
You'll  rue  this  day! 

(To  Harvey  Anderson) 
We'll  fix  you! 
(To  the  militia) 

Close  these  gates! 
(Glowers  at  Harry  Egerton) 
Clear  these  streets,  Captain ! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Stand  where  you  are,  my  friends. 

JERGENS. 

Captain,  I  order  you  to  clear  these  streets. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Be  careful,  Captain  Haskell,  what  you  do. 
This  is  a  public  place. 

A  MILITIAMAN. 

What's  the  word,  Cap.  ? 

HASKELL. 

(To  the  militiaman,  irritably) 
Who's  in  command  here,  I  should  like  to  know? 

JERGENS. 

Your  father  will  attend  to  you,  young  man. 
138 


The  Americans 


(Beside  himself  with  rage,  disappears  down  the 
street,  left] 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Now  then  go  quietly  to  your  homes,  my  friends, 
And  I  to-night  will  see  what  I  can  do. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

(Comes  toward  him) 
Mr.  Egerton. 

(Holds  out  his  hand) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
Yes,  Sam. 

(Takes  his  hand) 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

(To  the  crowd) 

Comrades, 

I  never  thought  we'd  live  to  see  this  day. 
(The  men  crowd  about  them) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Some  of  you  men  are  hungry. 

THE  MEN. 

We're  all  right! 
We're  all  right,  Mr.  Egerton ! 
139 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 

But  never  mind. 
We  will  begin  a  new  age  in  this  land. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Up  with  your  hats,  pards !  God's  on  the  mountains ! 
(Tosses  his  hat  into  the  air.  The  workmen,  in 
an  almost  religious  ecstasy,  go  out  left,  crowd- 
ing around  Harry  Egerton  and  Harvey  Ander- 
son. Dicey,  King  and  Masters  remain  behind, 
whispering  together,  then  follow  the  crowd. 
The  militiamen,  most  of  them  silent  with 
amazement  at  the  scene  they  have  witnessed^ 
gradually  disappear  into  the  mill-yard) 

FIRST  MILITIAMAN. 

I'm  for  young  Egerton  if  it  comes  to  that. 

SECOND  MILITIAMAN. 

Most  of  us  boys  are  sons  of  workingmen. 

THIRD  MILITIAMAN. 
I  never  thought  of  that. 

FOURTH  MILITIAMAN. 

Buck's  about  right,  too,  kids. 
We  came  here  to  see  the  square  thing  done, 
Not  to  be  half-sole  to  the  old  man's  boot. 
140 


The  Americans 


FIRST  MILITIAMAN. 
Let's  set  Buck  free. 

SECOND  MILITIAMAN. 
What  do  you  say,  kids? 

{They  go  into  the  mill-yard,  talking  earnestly) 

SECOND  SENTRY. 
Dan! 

(The  First  Sentry  joins  him  and  they   whisper 
together) 

FIRST  SENTRY. 

(Starts  with  the  other  for  the  gate) 
I've  nothing  against  Buck. 

SECOND  SENTRY. 
Haskell's  too  fast. 

(  They  enter  the  mill-yard) 


The  Americans 


ACT  III 

THE  MANSION 

Scene:  The  great  reception  hall  in  the  Egerton 
mansion.  One  sees  at  a  glance  that  this  is  the  orig- 
inal of  the  shadow  hall  shown  in  the  Dream-Vision  in 
the  First  Act.  The  carved  mountain  lion  crouches 
upon  the  newel-post,  and  upon  the  walls  the  figures  of 
men  at  work  among  the  pines  are  identical  with  those 
of  the  Vision.  But  here,  seen  under  a  natural  light, 
the  grotesque  grandeur  of  it  all  stands  out  in  clear  re- 
lief. Forward,  left  and  right,  just  where  the  great 
arch  separating  the  main  hall  comes  down,  groups  of 
little  pines  in  tubs  lend  a  freshness  to  the  scene. 

A  brilliant  company  is  gathered.  Everywhere,  from 
gestures  and  lifted  eyes,  it  is  evident  that  the  mansion, 
especially  the  strange  scene  upon  the  walls,  is  the  chief 
topic  of  talk  among  the  guests.  Centre  right,  about 
the  piano,  a  number  of  you,  g  people  are  watching  a 
couple  that  is  out  upon  the  floor,  apparently  practising 
a  new  step.  Near  the  pines,  forward  left,  General 
Chadbourne  turns  from  the  butler,  with  whom  he  has 
been  speaking,  to  shake  hands  with  some  ladies.  Later, 
Ralph  Ardsley  appears  just  inside  the  door,  forward 
right,  and  holds  up  a  glass  of  wine.  Two  or  three 
142 


The  Americans 


men  notice  him  and  nudge  their  companions,  and  one 

after  another  saunter  past  Ardsley  into  the  side  room. 

Time:     The  same  afternoon  about  five  o'clock. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

Get  me  the  eye  of  Chadbourne. 

FIRST  MAN. 
General ! 

(Out   on   the  floor  the  couple   that  is  waltzing 
jostles  an  elderly  lady) 

LADY  IN  BLACK. 

Why  can't  they  wait  until 

ELDERLY  LADY. 

Now  run  away. 
You've  got  all  night  for  this  tomfoolery. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
George ! 

(The  young  people  gradually  drift  out  into  the 
conservatory) 

CHADBOURNE. 

(Rejoining  the  Butler) 
For  it's  something  that  concerns  the  strike. 

BUTLER. 
Yes,  sir. 

H3 


The  Americans 


CHADBOURNE. 

And  it's  important. 

BUTLER. 
Yes,  sir. 

SECOND  MAN. 
General ! 

CHADBOURNE. 

And  I'll  be  right  out 

(Sees  the  lifted  hand) 

I'll  be  right  in  here. 

(Joins  the  Second  Man,  and  the  two,  with  Ards- 
ley,  disappear  into  the  side  room) 

YOUNG  MATRON. 

Why  do  you  men  keep  going  out  that  way? 

THIRD  MAN. 

(With  a  wink) 
The  Governor  wants  to  see  us. 

(  They  go  into  the  room,  forward  right) 

LADY  WITH  CONSPICUOUS  COIFFURE. 

(Entering  forward  left  with  Pale  Lady) 

Indeed  it  would; 

To  just  have  all  the  money  that  you  want. 
144 


The  Americans 


PALE  LADY. 

And  her  new  necklace,  did  you  notice  it? 

LADY  WITH  CONSPICUOUS  COIFFURE. 
Her  mother's  plain  enough. 

PALE  LADY. 

There  she  goes  now. 

(They  pass  rear  and  mingle  with  the  throng) 

FIRST  MAN. 

(Appearing  forward  right  with  a  glass  of  wine) 
You  ladies,  I  presume,  are  temperance  workers. 
('The  punch!     The  punch/'  is  whispered  about, 
and  the  people  begin  to  pass  out  centre  and  for- 
ward right) 

FAT  LADY. 

I  mean  to  just  taste  everything  there  is. 
(Goes  out) 

LADY  IN  BLACK. 

Isn't  it  just  too  grand  for  anything! 

PALE  LADY. 

At  night,  though,  I  should  think  'twould  scare  a 

body 
With  all  those  horrid  things  upon  the  walls. 

(They  go  out,     A  moment  later  Mrs.  Egerton 
145 


The  Americans 


comes  in  and  looks  about  as  though  she  were 
seeking  some  one) 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

(To  her  daughter,  who  passes  toward  the  con- 
servatory) 
Please  don't  keep  showing  it,  Gladys. 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 
Marjorie! 

(She  enters  the  conservatory) 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

(Beckons  to  some  one  in  the  room  forward  left. 

The  Butler  appears) 
Has  no  word  come? 

BUTLER. 

Jack  says  that  Mr.  George  inquired 
And  they've  seen  nothing  of  him. 

(He  goes  back  into  the  room,  forward  left.  Mrs. 
Egerton  lingers  a  while,  then  returns  to  the 
room,  forward  right.  Here,  a  moment  later 
Ralph  Ardsley  appears) 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

{Calls  to  a  group  of  four  men   back  near  the 

stairs) 
Laggards!  laggards! 

146 


The  Americans 


(Bishop  Hardbrooke  and  a  fellow-townsman, 
each  with  a  man  who  is  evidently  a  stranger, 
come  slowly  forward) 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

Isn't  there  aspiration  in  all  this, 

(Indicating  the  house) 

A  reaching  out  toward  God,  and  a  love,  too, 
Of  all  that  God  hath  made? 

FELLOW-TOWNSMAN. 
The  river  there. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

The  walls  will  be  here  when  the  wine  is  gone. 

FIRST  STRANGER. 
But  public  sentiment. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE 
Vox  populi. 

FELLOW-TOWNSMAN. 

People  don't  stop  to  think  of  what  he's  done. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

Exactly.    When  an  axe  falls  on  one's  toes, 
The  service  that  it's  been,  that's  out  of  mind. 
And  yet  you  throw  the  bruise,  the  moment's  pain, 
147 


The  Americans 


In  one  side,  and  in  the  other  a  cleared  land 
With  homes  and  fields 

SECOND  STRANGER. 
That's  true. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

And  populous  towns. 
The  balance  will  be  struck  up  yonder,  brother. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

Show  me  one  man  that's  in  the  public  eye 
Because  he  stands  for  something,  towers  above  them, 
That  hasn't  had  them  yelping  at  his  heels. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

You  know  the  Editor  of  the  Courier? 

(The  Strangers  shake  hands  with  Ardsley) 

SECOND  STRANGER. 
You  didn't  come  back. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

I've  troubles  of  my  own. 
(Walks  back  in  the  hall) 

SECOND  STRANGER. 
We  were  together  in  the  Legislature. 
148 


The  Americans 


BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

(Stopping  near  the  door,  forward  right,  as  if  for 

a  final  word) 

Speaking  of  Egerton,  some  years  ago 
I  saw  that  statue  in  the  New  York  harbor, 
The  sea  mists  blown  about  it,  now  the  head 
And  now  an  outflash  of  tremendous  bronze 
About  the  waist.    'Is  that  the  thing,'  said  I, 
'They  talk  so  much  about?'    Next  day  'twas  clear. 

FIRST  STRANGER. 

Looked  very  different. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 
It's  the  same  with  men. 
(They  go  out) 

SECOND  STRANGER. 
You  going  in? 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

I've  got  to  find  a  man. 

(The  stranger  goes  out) 

(Ardsley  calls  toward  the  room,  forward  left) 
What's  the  news  from  the  mill,  Charles? 

BUTLER. 

(Appears  at  the  door) 

I  haven't  heard,  sir. 
149 


The  Americans 


You  reckon  they'll  go  back,  sir? 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

Sure.    Where's  Gladys? 

(The  Butler  walks   back   toward   the   conserva- 
tory) 
Just  tell  her  I  asked  about  her. 

BUTLER. 
Yes,  sir. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
Thank  you. 

(He  goes  into  the  room,  forward  right.  The 
Butler  returns  to  the  opposite  room.  All  the 
people  have  now  withdrawn  with  the  exception 
of  Mrs.  Orr,  who  has  come  in,  centre  right, 
and  who  lingers  about  as  though  she  were  lis- 
tening to  the  upper  part  of  the  walls.  Later, 
Mrs.  Egerton  re-enters,  forward  right,  and 
glances  back  into  the  room  from  which  she  has 
come,  to  satisfy  herself  that  her  guests  are  oc- 
cupied. Seeing  her,  Mrs.  Orr  comes  forward, 
shaking  her  head) 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
No? 

150 


The  Americans 


MRS.  ORR. 

No. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
Nothing  at  all? 

MRS.  ORR. 
Nothing  at  all. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

I  never  have  been  sure  myself.     Sometimes 
I've  thought  I  heard  it. 

MRS.  ORR. 

I  can  understand 
How  one  could  easily  imagine  it. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

If  you  could  be  here  when  the  house  is  still, 
Alone 

MRS.  ORR. 

In  certain  moods,  perhaps  I  should. 
For  certainly  the  trees  seem  most  alive. 
I  never  would  have  thought  it  possible 
To  make  a  forest  live  and  life  go  on 
In  wood  as  it  does  here.     'Tis  wonderful. 

(Mrs.  Egerton  glances  across  into  the  room,  for- 
ward riflht,  from  which  comes  a  sound  of  mer- 
riment) 


The  Americans 


MRS.  ORR. 

The  very  squirrels  upon  the  limbs — see  there, 
The  young  one  with  the  pine  cone  in  its  mouth. 
And  the  faint  far-awayness  of  the  wood. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

(  C  onfidentially) 
Sylvia 

MRS.  ORR. 

Just  now  as  the  couple  passed 
Practising,  I  overheard  the  girl, 
'It  almost  seems  the  real  pines  are  here 
Dropping  their  needles  on  us  while  we  dance. 
As  Lillian  says,  you  feel  them  in  your  hair.' 
Now,  to  my  way  of  thinking,  it  would  be 
Far  easier  to  hear  the  pine  trees  sigh 
Than  feel  the  needles. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

It  was  not  the  pines. 

MRS.  ORR. 

You  said  a  sighing. 

(Mrs.  Egerton  says  something  to  her) 

Why,  Mary  Egerton! 
How  horrible! 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

It  worries  me  at  times. 

152 


The  Americans 


MRS.  ORR. 

You  do  not  mean  it!    And  the  house  just  built! 
You  foolish  dear. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
I  know. 

MRS.  ORR. 
(Aside} 
How  horrible! 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

Harry  has  always  been  a  strange,  strange  boy; 
So  different  from  the  rest.    What  is  it  you  hear? 

MRS.  ORR. 

Why,  nothing,  nothing  at  all.     My  dear,  this  is 
Really  ridiculous.     If  it  were  old 
And  there  were  cobwebs  here  and  musty  walls 
And  rumors  had  come  down  of  some  old  crime 
But  with  the  timber,  every  stick  of  it 
Fresh  from  the  forest,  you  might  almost  say 
Picked  from  your  very  garden,  a  pure  bloom, 
Fashioned    and    shaped    by    your    own    husband's 

•    hand : 

How  any  one  could  fancy  such  a  thing 
Is  past  my  comprehension. 

(A  medley  of  voices  is  heard,  forward  right) 
153 


The  Americans 


MRS.  EGERTON. 
Here  they  come. 

A  VOICE. 

Cover  his  eyes,  some  of  you. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
Let's  not  be  seen. 

(She  starts  back  for  the  door,  centre  right) 

MRS.  ORR. 

But  we  can't  talk  in  there. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
I'll  slip  away. 

(They  go  out  centre  right.  Amid  laughter  and  a 
confusion  of  voices  Ralph  Ardsley  and  a  fellow- 
townsman  enter  forward  right  leading  Gov- 
ernor Braddock,  whose  eyes  are  blindfolded. 
Following  these  come  Donald  Egerton,  General 
Chadbourne,  Bishop  Hardbrooke,  members  of 
the  Governor's  staff  in  uniform,  and  other 
guests) 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

You'll  pay  for  this,  gentlemen,  you'll  pay  fbr  this. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

Further,  Great  Master? 
154 


The  Americans 


(Egerton  points  back  toward  the  centre  of  the 
hall.  Himself  and  the  group  about  him  remain 
more  in  the  foreground) 

EGERTON. 

That  will  do. 

( They  remove  the  handkerchief  from  the  Gov- 
ernor's eyes) 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 
Hi  yi! 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

You  see  you  wake  in  Paradise. 

FIRST  GUEST. 
Didn't  expect  it? 
(Laughter) 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

Your  incorruptible  administration. 

FIRST  STAFF  MEMBER. 

You  mean  to  tell  us  that  you  planned  all  this? 

EGERTON. 

No,  I  conceived  it,  Weston;  it's  alive 

As  I  hope  to  show  you.    But  more  of  that  anon. 

(Calls  back  to  the  Governor) 
Does  it  meet  your  expectations? 
155 


The  Americans 


STAFF  MEMBERS. 

(Who  have  gone  rear) 
Splendid !    Splendid ! 

FELLOW-TOWNSMAN. 
And  in  the  second  story  he's  got  his  mill. 

SECOND  STAFF  MEMBER. 

(To  Egerton) 
You  don't  have  strikes  up  there? 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

Well,  Egerton, 
This  is  the  grandest  thing  I  ever  saw. 

EGERTON. 

I  made  my  mind  up,  Braddock,  years  ago 

That  when  I'd  sawed  my  fortune  out  of  lumber 

I'd  build  a  mansion  where  a  man  could  see 

Just  how  I'd  done  it,  starting  with  the  raw, 

The  standing  timber,  every  phase  of  it; 

A  sort  of  record  of  these  busy  times: 

For  they  won't  last  forever,  these  great  days. 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

We  never  see  the  giants  till  they're  gone. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

The  day  will  come  when  we'll  appreciate  them. 
156 


The  Americans 


RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

Three  cheers  for  one  of  them. 

GUESTS. 

Hurrah !    Hurrah ! 

EGERTON. 

(  Goes  back  a  little,  the  group  following  him,  am 

points  right  rear} 

Back  there  you  see  the  swamper  clearing  brush, 
Man's  first  assault  upon  primeval  forests. 
And  then  the  feller  with  his  broader  stroke 
Hewing  a  way  for  apple  trees  and  cities, 
And  incidentally  moving  on  himself. 
And  here  you  see  my  teams.    And,  by  the  way, 
They  talk  of  how  the  horse  has  followed  man 
In  his  march  across  the  ages,  but  the  tree 
That  sheltered  the  lost  saurian,  think  of  that! 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

You  must  have  been  a  tree  in  some  past  life; 
You  seem  to  love  them  so  and  understand  them. 

EGERTON. 

There's  nothing  in  this  world  so  beautiful 
As  a  pine  forest,  gentlemen,  just  at  dawn; 
The  infant  breathing  of  a  million  needles. 
It's  like  our  organ,  Bishop,  those  soft  tones. 
(Comes  forward) 

157 


The  Americans 


BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

He  ought  to  have  lived  in  old  cathedral  days. 

EGERTON. 

And  here  the  rising  rollways ;  then  the  drive, 
The  river  man. 

(Points  across  left) 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

Come  out  to  get  a  view, 
A  broader  view. 

THIRD  STAFF  MEMBER. 

You  had  men  pose  for  this? 

EGERTON. 

I'm  following  the  tree. 

FOURTH  STAFF  MEMBER. 
That  fellow's  face. 

EGERTON. 

These  'broader  views'  don't  interest  me  much. 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

And  you  think  this  idea's  capable  of  extension? 

EGERTON. 

How  do  you  mean? 

158 


The  Americans 


GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

(Returning   from    a   word   with    the   Butler,    to 

Ardsley  who  comes  to  meet  him) 
I  don't  see  what's  the  matter. 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 
A  while  ago  you  said 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
O  it's  all  right. 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

You  were  the  first  Captain  of  Industry 
In  all  America  to  build  a  house. 
That  has  a  meaning  in  it. 

EGERTON. 

That's  what  I  said ; 
That  has  the  least  relation  to  the  land. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

This  snow  you'll  see  will  bring  them  to  their  senses. 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

Suppose  you'd  made  your  fortune  out  of  copper? 

FIRST  STAFF  MEMBER. 

Yes,  we  all  build  our  houses  out  of  timber. 
159 


The  Americans 


SECOND  STAFF  MEMBER. 
Or  cotton? 

GUESTS. 
Ha,  ha,  ha! 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
Or  oil? 

SEVERAL. 
Yes. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

How  would  you  spiritualize  the  oil  business? 

EGERTON. 

Ardsley  here  wants  to  quote  me  in  his  paper. 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

The  Lumber  King  upon  the  late  decision. 

EGERTON. 

It's  Art,  not  rebates,  that  I'm  speaking  of. 
Couldn't  I  show  my  derricks  on  the  walls? 
And  back  there  red-skins  striking  fire  from  flint? 
Then  our  forefathers  with  their  tallow-dips 
Watching  the  easy  drills  slip  up  and  down? 
The  tanks  here — Ah,  you  laugh,  you  dilettanti. 
I'll  tell  you  gentlemen  what  the  trouble  is: 
1 60 


The  Americans 


You're  frightened  by  our  natural  resources, 
And  you  despise  the  life  of  your  own  land, 
The  crude,  tremendous  life  we're  living  here. 
The  force  is  too  much  for  you.     You  want  polish. 

0  I  can  prove  it  to  you. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
Now  you'll  get  it. 

EGERTON. 

Yes,  Braddock,  there's  that  Capitol  Commission. 
I'd  be  ashamed. 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

1  knew  'twould  come. 

EGERTON. 

And  we 

Breathing  the  electric  air  of  this  great  West, 
As  rich  in  life  as  timber,  herds  and  hops, 
Wheat  fields  and  mines,  and  all  these  things  to  be 
Raised  and  translated  by  the  brains  of  men. 
Think  of  a  State  dotted  with  lumber  camps 
And  buzzing  day  and  night  with  saws  and  saws, 
And  as  far  as  the  North  Pole  from  old  world  cus- 
toms, 

Wearing  a  capitol  with  Grecian  columns 
With  an  old  Roman  Justice  on  her  comb! 
You'd  scorn  to  come  here  in  a  gaberdine 
161 


The  Americans 


Made  by  some  dago  in  the  days  of  Pompey. 
And  yet  you  dress  the  State  up  in  these  things. 
No  independence. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
Governor  ? 

FIRST  STAFF  MEMBER. 
Call  the  troops! 

EGERTON. 

I'd  rather  cut  the  timber  of  this  land 
And  coin  its  spirit  in  a  thing  like  this 
Than  be  a  Roman  Caesar. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

Hip  hurrah! 
That's  what  I  call  a  fellow  countryman. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

You  see  we're  all  Americans  down  here. 

SECOND  STAFF  MEMBER. 

Now,   Governor   Braddock,   show  your   stars   and 
stripes. 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

Yet  you  don't  seem  to  dwell  in  unity. 
I  recollect,  and  it's  not  years  ago, 
162 


The  Americans 


Receiving  a  petition,  and  a  large  one — 
Some  six  or  seven  thousand? 

THIRD  STAFF  MEMBER. 
About  that. 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

Demanding  a  withdrawal  of  some  troops. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

We're  not  responsible  for  our  lower  classes. 

EGERTON. 

(  Significantly  ) 
You  didn't  withdraw  them. 
(An  embarrassing  silence) 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

(Slaps  the  Governor  on  the  shoulder) 
Good  American! 

FOURTH  STAFF  MEMBER. 

(To  Bishop  Hardbrooke) 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  was  a  foreigner. 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

The  Bishop  would  hardly  say  so  though. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

And  you, 
163 


The  Americans 


You,  Governor,  do  you  go  before  the  people 
With  all  you  know?    No  secrets,  not  a  one? 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 
O  I'm  not  saying. 

EGERTON. 

Editor  Ardsley? 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
Here. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

It  eases  the  heart,  brother,  to  confess. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

It's  my  stockholders,  Bishop. 
(Points  to  Egerton) 

EGERTON. 

General  Chadbourne? 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

I,  Colonel,  get  my  orders  from  above. 
(Points  to  the  Governor) 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 
We  all  do. 

(Points  to  Egerton) 

164 


The  Americans 


RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
Egerton  ? 

EGERTON. 

Then  come  along. 

I've  got  some  good  Americans  up  here 
Who  don't  send  in  petitions. 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 
A  model  mill. 

FIRST  STAFF  MEMBER. 
Non-Union  ? 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

They're  united  in  the  walls. 
(Laughter) 

EGERTON. 

(As  they  start  for  the  stairs) 
Never  you  mind,  gentlemen,  'twill  not  be  long 
Until  the  model  that  I've  built  up  here 
Will  be  the  model  everywhere. 

GUESTS. 

(Led  by  Ralph  Ardsley) 
Hurray ! 

(Attracted  by  the  shouting,  some  ladies  look  in, 
forward  right) 

165 


The  Americans/ 


A  LADY. 

They  do  have  such  good  times. 
(They  withdraw) 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

(From  the  steps  to  the  Butler) 
I'll  be  upstairs. 

(Seeing  the  hall  empty,  the  young  people  who 
have  looked  in  occasionally  from  the  conserva- 
tory, enter  and  take  possession) 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

(From  the  landing) 
Hello,  Gladys! 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 
Hello,  Ardsley! 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

(Touching  his  throat) 
Stunning. 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 
Thank  you. 

(Ardsley  disappears  after  the  others.  Mrs.  Orr 
enters,  forward  right,  and  is  later  joined  by 
Mrs.  Egerton) 

MRS.  ORR. 

You  surely  have  not  spoken  of  this  to  him? 
166 


The  Americans 


MRS.  EGERTON. 

The  other  night  I  started  to. 

MRS.  ORR. 

How  could  you! 

(Mrs.  Egerton  glances  back  uneasily  into  the 
room) 

MRS.  ORR. 

They're  all  right.     Let's  go  here  behind  the  pines. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

(Beckons  to  the  Butler) 
Serve  them  the  lunch  now,  Charles. 

(The  Butler  goes  into  the  room,  forward  right. 
The  two  women  pass  left,  where  they  are  some- 
what shut  in  by  the  pines) 

MRS.  ORR. 

What  did  he  say? 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

And  then — I  don't  know — something  in  his  face — 
Perhaps  the  wonder  that  I  knew  would  come 
That  such  a  thing —    If  people  only  knew — 
Donald  is  not  the  hard  unfeeling  man — 

And  knowing  this 

(She  hesitates) 

I67 


The  Americans 


MRS.  ORR. 

And  knowing  what,  my  dear? 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

My  heart  rose  up  and  I — I  simply  said 
That  Harry  had  heard  a  sighing  from  the  walls. 
I  told  him  so  much,  for  it's  worried  me. 
And  he  at 


MRS.  ORR. 

(With  spirit) 
I  know.     'The  pines!' 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
'The  pines!' 

MRS.  ORR. 
I  knew  it! 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

'The  pines!'    And  walked  the  floor  and  laughed; 
And  such  a  heart-free  laugh  I  have  not  heard 
In  twenty  years.     'The  pines!' 

MRS.  ORR. 

'The  pines!'    Of  course. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

Feeling 

168 


The  Americans 


MRS.  ORR. 

Yes,  yes! 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

He  had  caught  the  very  soul 
Of  the  forest. 

MRS.  ORR. 

And  the  triumph  of  it  all! 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

Ah,  no  one  knows  how  many,  many  years 
Donald  has  dreamed  of  this,  how  all  his  thought 

And  all  his 

(Stands  regarding  the  young  people  dancing) 

MRS.  ORR. 

One  has  but  to  look  at  it. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

Yet  not  for  it  as  his,  not  that  at  all, 
But  for  the  building  of  it. 

MRS.  ORR. 
Of  course. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

And  now 

That  it  has  taken  form  you  cannot  think 
169 


The  Americans 


How  like  a  boy  he  is,  how  eagerly 
He  flees  here  from  the  business  of  the  day 
And  how  he  walks  about  enjoying  it. 
'Tis  like  the  sea.    When  he  is  here  alone 
The  burden  of  his  great  business  falls  away 
And  he  is  young  again.     I  sometimes  feel, 
Lying  in  bed  at  night  and  knowing  he 
Is  walking  here  alone,  the  lights  turned  low, 
And  listening  for  the  sighing  of  the  pines, 
That  somehow  'tis  a  woman  he  has  made 
And  that  she  whispers  to  him  in  these  hours, 
Comes  to  him  beautiful  from  out  the  pines 
After  his  long,  long  wooing  of  her 

MRS.  ORR. 

I  see! 

Beautiful,  beautiful!     I  see!     I  see! 
It  needed  that  one  breath  to  make  it  live. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
To  Donald,  yes. 

MRS.  ORR. 

Before  it  was  a  house, 
nd  now  a  living  thing.    I  see!    I  see! 
(Kisses  the  little  pines) 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

If  one  could  only  know  it  is  not  God 
170 


The  Americans 


Whispering  through  the  walls  of  our  new  home 
Some  dreadful  word,  and  yet  with  voice  so  low. 

MRS.  ORR. 

My  dear,  your  words  are  perfect  Greek  to  me. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

You  know  they  say  the  men  are  suffering  so. 
And  Donald  does  not  seem  to  see. 

MRS.  ORR. 
(Vaguely) 

The  men? 

MRS.  EGERTON3 

Yes;  Harry  says  that  some  are  without  bread. 
And  we  here — and  the  music  and  the  lights. 

MRS.  ORR. 

(In  utter  astonishment) 
Why,  Mary  Egerton !    You  do  not  mean — 
You  cannot  mean  that  that  suggested  this, 
That  vulgar  thing,  this  beautiful  idea! 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

If  one  could  only  help  them,  only  help  them! 

MRS.  ORR. 

The  hunger  of  a  lot  of  stupid  men 
171 


The  Americans 


Who  wish  to  tell  your  husband  what  to  do, 

And  he  with  a  brain  like  this,  and  they  with  claws ! 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

It  all  depends  upon  such  little  things, 
Things  that  we've  never  earned 

MRS.  ORR. 

(Mysteriously) 
Harry,  you  say? 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

That  fall  right  at  our  feet  we  don't  know  how. 
The  chance  of  birth !    What  right  have  I  to  this 
Wlio've  never  done  one  thing  to  help  the  world, 
While  they  who  work  their  lives  out 

MRS.  ORR. 

'Help  the  world!' 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

Can't  even  have  the  food  and  clothes  they  need. 
People  have  asked  me  why — that's  why  it  is 
I've  done  my  shopping  in  the  city  lately. 
You  meet  them  in  the  stores  and  on  the  streets. 
And  they're  so  thin,  so  worn  with  the  long  strike. 
Just  think  of  children  crying  for  mere  bread ! 
It's  horrible.     I  thought  this  afternoon 
As  I  stood  at  the  window  looking  out — 
172 


The  Americans 


Through  the  first  snow  the  motor  cars  came  up. 

I  don't  believe  they  even  noticed  it. 

It  means  so  little  to  them.    It's  just  snow. 

But  in  the  workers'  homes — I  just  can't  think 

Of  God  as  looking  down  with  unconcern. 

I  couldn't  love  Him  if  I  thought  He  could. 

MRS.  ORR. 

I  don't  know  what  we're  ever  going  to  do. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

If  only  some  strong,  gifted  man  would  come 
And  show  us  how,  show  us  all  how  to  live. 
We'd  all  be  so  much  happier  than  we  are. 

MRS.  ORR. 

I  wish  to  goodness  I  could  shut  my  ears 

And  never  hear  that  'Help  the  world'  again. 

You  can't  pick  up  a  book  or  magazine, 

Even  a  fashion  journal,  or  go  out 

To  see  your  friends,  it  seems 

(The  men  are  seen  coming  down  the  stairs,  the 
Governor  and  the  Bishop  on  either  side  of 
Egerton.  They  are  all  laughing  and  having  a 
good  time) 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

I'm  very  sorry. 

It  isn't  the  place.    But  I've  been  so  distraught. 
173 


The  Americans 


Let  us  go  in  and  put  it  all  away. 

And  you  must  never  mention  it.    I  can't  bear 

To  think  of  people  talking. 

MRS.  ORR. 

Hear  them  laugh! 
I  wouldn't  live  with  such  a  wicked  man. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

That  isn't  kind  in  you. 

MRS.  ORR. 

In  twenty  years 
We'll  all  be  wearing  grave-clothes. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
Sylvia ! 

MRS.  ORR. 

There'll  not  be  one  retreat  where  we  can  pp, 

We  ladies  of  the  ancien  regime; 

We'll  all  be  out,  with  not  a  single  place 

Where  we  can  make  the  tables  ring  with  cards 

And  laugh  and  just  be  gay.    Even  the  pines, 

The   beautiful   pines,    are   tainted,    and   the   snow. 

The  winter  long  I'll  never  dare  go  out. 

I'll  be  afraid  I'll  catch  this  'Help  the  world' 

And    come    home   hearing    things.     You    precious 


174 


The  Americans 


You  just  shan't  give  way  to  this  silly  mood. 
And  at  the  moment  when  you  have  about  you 
The  money  and  the  best  names  in  the  State; 
Just  everything  that  mortal  heart  can  wish. 

{They  watch  the  men  coming  down  the  steps) 
You  ought  to  be  so  proud. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
I  am. 

(The  piano  stops) 

A  GIRL. 

(Who  has  been  waltzing) 

0  pshaw! 

MRS.  ORR. 

Even  the  Governor — don't  you  see,  when  he's  with 

Donald 

And  when  his  wife's  with  you,  how  they  both  show 
How  all  they  are  and  all  they  hope  to  be 
They  owe  to  Donald? 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

1  know,  I  know. 

A  YOUNG  MAN. 
Come  on! 

MRS.  EGERTOK. 

And  he's  so  good,  so  good  in  many  ways. 

(The  young  people  make  for  the  conservatory) 
175 


The  Americans 


MRS.  ORR. 

And  yet  so  gay,  so  sensible  with  it  all. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

It  isn't  that  I'm  ungrateful,  Sylvia. 

I'm  never  done  with  thanking  God  for  all 

The  blessings  that  I  have. 

MRS.  ORR. 

Children  and  wealth. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
And  Donald,  too. 

MRS.  ORR. 

0  really! 

A  YOUNG  MAN. 
Bring  the  score! 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

1  can't  help  wishing,  though,  that  he  would  see 
And  do  for  others  as  he  does  for  us. 

(They  stand  listening) 

EGERTON. 

Just  let  your  minds  go  out  about  the  mountains. 

(A  pause) 
Have   you   had   too   much    punch,   or   what's   the 

trouble  ? 
(Laughter) 

I76 


The  Americans 


MRS.  ORR. 

Just  hear  how  joyous  hearted!     Promise  me 

MRS.  EGERTQN. 
(In  alarm) 
He's  telling  them  of  the  pines ! 

MRS.  ORR. 

What  would  you  do? 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

(Beckons  to  the  Butler,  who  is  passing) 
Tell  Donald  that  I  wish  to  speak  with 

MRS.  ORR. 
Stop! 

EGERTON". 

It's  something,  gentlemen,  that  we  all  have  need  of. 

MRS.  ORR. 

Dear,  if  you  ever  dare  tell  Donald  this 

And  pass  this  ghastly  whisper  to  his  heart, 

I'll  be  the  Secret  Lady  of  the  Pines  ; 

I'll  whisper  something.     What  if  Donald  knew 

Who's  kept  the  strike  afoot?    The  great  unknown 

Contributor  to  the  Citizens'  Relief? 

Who  had  twelve  hundred  dollars  in  the  bank, 

A  present  from  a  Christmas  long  ago? 

Twelve  hundred  and  twelve  hundred ! 

177 


The  Americans 


MRS.  EGERTQN. 
It  can't  be! 

MRS.  ORR. 

We  bankers'  wives 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
A  mere  coincidence. 

MRS.  ORR. 

It's  not ;  he's  checked  it  out.    So !    If  you  care 
Nothing  for  Donald's  happiness,  /  do. 

(She  leaves  Mrs.  Egerton  standing  near  the  pines. 
Other  ladies  have  begun  to  come  in) 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

What's  underneath  the  forest? 

MRS.  ORR. 

(With  a  strange  smile,  calling  back) 
I  really  will. 

EGERTON. 

You  give  it  up? 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

My  noble,  noble  son! 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

He's  waiting,  gentlemen,  till  he  finds  the  mine. 
178 


The  Americans 


EGERTON. 

The  man  of  parts! 

SEVERAL. 
Of  course. 

EGERTON. 

That's  why  I  can't 

Take  you  down  now.    But  when  I  find  the  mine 
And  get  the  gold  to  puddling  in  the  pots, 
If  I  can  find  me  plastic  metal  workers 
That  I  can  mould  and  hammer  while  they  mould 
And  hammer  out  my  vision  on  the  walls, 
I'll  show  you  through  some  subterranean  chambers 
Will  set  your  eyes  a-dazzle.    In  the  dark, 
Lit  by  the  torches  in  the  miners'  caps, 
You'll  see  the  world  of  metals  moving  up 
Through  human  hands  as  here  you  see  the  tree. 
That's  why  my  basement  isn't  finished  yet. 

CRIES. 
Good  luck!    Good  luck! 

EGERTON. 

I  hope  you'll  be  alive. 

(He  leaves  the  group  and  comes  forward) 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 
Magnificent  conception. 

179 


The  Americans 


BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 
A  great  man. 

EGERTON. 

( To  the  Butler) 
Call  them  in,  Charles.     Have  all  of  them  come  in. 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

Metals,  then  trees,  then  mills,  then  books  and  pic- 
tures. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

Raw  matter  on  its  spiral  up  to  spirit. 

EGERTON. 

While  we're  at  riddles,  gentlemen 

(Ladies  come  in,  centre  and  forward  right) 

EGERTON. 

Come  right  in. 

If  you'll  allow  me,  friends,  suppose  you  stand 
Where  you  can  have  my  forest  in  your  eye. 

(He  arranges  them  to  face  right) 
I  don't  see,  ladies,  how  you  ever  endure 
The  dulness  of  these  males.    We've  been  at  riddles. 
Come  in.    I've  kept  my  best  wine  for  the  last. 
(He  steps  back  near  the  door,  centre  right) 
Suppose  you'd  made  an  Adam  out  of  clay, 
Worked  years  to  get  it  to  your  satisfaction, 
1 80 


The  Americans 


And  now  you're  looking  at  it,  hands  all  washed 
And  mind  confronting,  weighing  what's  been  done. 
Suddenly  jtm're  aware  of  something  standing  by  you 
That  whispers  in  your  left  ear:    'Make  a  wish 
Within  the  power  of  God.'    What  would  it  be? 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

To  see  it  walk  about  the  garden,  brother. 

EGERTON. 

Suppose  your  Adam  was  a  pine-wood,  Bishop, 
That  couldn't  walk. 

MRS.  ORR. 

(Ardently} 
Then  just  to  hear  it  breathe. 

EGERTON. 

A  woman's  intuition! 

(Looks  to  see  who  it  is) 
Sylvia  Orr! 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 
Sylva  a  forest. 

EGERTON. 

An  old  friend  of  mine. 

(He  gives  a  signal  to  some  one) 
A  clear  day  in  the  pine-wood. 

(Suddenly  the  hall  is  beautifully  illuminated) 
181 


The  Americans 


GUESTS. 
Ah! 

EGERTON. 

With  clouds, 
The  dawn  just  breaking. 

(The  hall  becomes  gray  and  shadowy) 
Ancient  silence. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

(Half  in  terror) 
Donald ! 

EGERTON. 

Let  us  be  quiet  now. 

(The  silence  is  broken  by  the  ringing  of  a  tele- 
phone bell  in  the  room  forward  left) 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 
Ah! 

MRS.  ORR. 

(Across  to  Mrs.  Egerton) 
Don't  you  dare ! 

(The  Butler  goes  out  to  answer  the  telephone) 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

This  age  of  bells  and  whistles. 
182 


The  Americans 


GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

{Comes   forward  and  takes   his   stand   near   the 

door  forward  left) 
Just  in  time! 

EGERTON. 

They  don't  concern  me.    We  are  far  away 
With  quiet  all  about  us  and  the  woods. 
(The  silence  is  intense) 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

(Rehearsing  his  speech) 

.  .  .  And  it  gives  me  pleasure  to  announce  to  you 
Upon  the  occasion  of  the  opening 
Of  your  new  mansion,  Colonel  Egerton, 
This  bit  of  news,  sir,  from  the  military; 
And  I  offer  it  with  our  congratulations: 
The  strike  is  over; 

The  men  have  yielded  and  have  gone  to  work. 
And  all's  been  done  without  one 

(Enter  the  Butler  hurriedly) 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 
Here  I  am. 

BUTLER. 

(Passing  him) 
For  Mr.  Egerton. 

183 


The  Americans 


GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 
No! 

BUTLER. 

(In  a  low  voice  over  the  crowd) 
Mr.  Egerton! 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 
Isn't  that  Captain  Haskell? 

BUTLER. 

Mr.  Jergens. 

(Egerton  comes  forward,  making  his  way  through 
the  crowd) 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 
Butler ! 

(  The  Butler  goes  to  him  and  they  talk) 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

(Calls  after  Egerton  as  he  goes  out  left) 
Good  luck! 

(Calls  to  Chadbourne) 
This  probably  ends  it. 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

What's  your  opinion  of  these  mysteries,  Bishop? 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

I'm  one  of  those  that  simply  stand  and  wait. 
184 


The  Americans 


GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

You  don't  believe  in  modern  miracles. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

There  are  miracles  and  miracles,  Governor  Brad- 
dock. 

I  try  to  keep  elastic  in  these  things, 
Steering  a  middle  course  with  open  mind. 

RALPH  ARDSLEV. 

(Calls  to  Chadbourne) 
Needed  just  this  to  crown  the  time  we're  having. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

We  are  living  in  an  age  in  many  ways 

Without  a  parallel.     I  sometimes  think — 

If  I  may  say  it  not  too  seriously — 

Of  those  last  days  we  read  of  when  the  world 

Goes  on  its  way  unconscious  of  the  end. 

We  give  and  take  in  marriage,  eat  and  drink, 

And  meet  our  friends  in  social  intercourse, 

And  all  the  while  a  Spirit  walks  beside  us, 

Enters  our  homes  and  writes  upon  our  walls. 

There  are  whispers  everywhere   if  we  could  hear 

them  ; 

And  some  of  them  grow  louder  with  the  days; 
And  pools  of  quiet  ruffle  and  show  storms. 
You,  Governor,  feel  the  popular  unrest 
As  it  manifests  itself  in  politics, 
185 


The  Americans 


The  shift  of  parties  and  of  principles, 

Rocks  that  we  used  to  think  would  never  change. 

And  brother  Egerton  in  industry; 

He  feels  it. 

EGERTON. 

(Appearing  at  the  door,  excited,  and  keeping  back 

so  as  not  to  be  seen  by  the  people) 
Chadbourne ! 

(The  General  joins  him  and  they  disappear) 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

I  sincerely  hope 

We're  on  the  eve,  however,  of  a  day 
When  trouble-makers  in  the  ranks  of  Labor, 
Not  only  here  in  Foreston  but  elsewhere, 
May  find  it  to  their  interest  to  respect, 
Nay,  reverence  as  a  thing  ordained  by  God, 
The  right  of  men  to  earn  their  daily  bread, 
As  well  as  profitable  to  obey  the  laws 
Without  the  unseemly  presence  of  armed  men. 

(There  is  a  clapping  of  hands.  General  Chad- 
bourne  appears  just  inside  the  door  and  beckons 
to  Ardsley,  who  goes  in  to  him) 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

And  I  will  take  occasion  here  and  now 

To  say  what  you've  been  thinking  all  this  while, 

And  in  the  presence  of  the  man  himself: 

We  are  fortunate,  my  friends 

1 86 


The  Americans 


RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

{Appears  and  calls  to  one  of  the  guests  farther 

back} 
The  Governor. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

In  having  at  the  helm  of  our  great  State 
One  who  loves  order  more  than  he  loves  votes. 
(General  clapping  of  hands) 

SEVERAL. 
Good! 

GUEST. 

(In  a  low  voice  over  the  crowd) 
Governor ! 

SEVERAL. 
That's  good! 

(The  Governor  bows) 

CRIES. 

Speech !     Speech ! 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

My  friends, 
I  quite  agree  with  the  Bishop. 

SEVERAL. 
Ha,  ha,  ha! 


The  Americans 


GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

I  don't  mean  in  his  estimate  of  me. 

(More  laughter.  The  Governor  catches  sight  of 
the  guest  beckoning  to  him) 

GOVERNOR  BRADDOCK. 

But  here's  my  better  half.    You  might  ask  her. 
Pardon  me  till  I  see 

» 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

(Calls  urgently  to  the  Bishop  in  a  voice  that  is 

barely   heard) 
Go  on!    Go  on! 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

Society,  my  friends,  is  like  this  house, 
This  mansion  that  we  all  so  much  admire. 

(Ardsley  stands  impassive  till  the  Governor  has 
gone  out  and  the  Bishop  has  again  got  the 
attention  of  the  people,  then  goes  quickly  into 
the  side  room) 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

Imagine  what  a  state  of  things  we'd  have 
If  every  wooden  fellow  in  these  walls, 
Not  only  here  but  in  the  mill  upstairs, 
Should  lend  his  heart  to  tongues  of  discontent 
Until  his  very  tools  became  a  burden. 
1 88 


The  Americans 


A  VOICE. 
Anarchy. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

Very  true.    Where  would  this  be, 
This  beautiful  thing  that  Colonel  Egerton 
Has  built  with  so  much  labor  and  so  much  taste? 
And  out  there  in  the  world  where  we  all  dwell, 
Where  all  of  us  have  places  in  the  walls, 
Some  working  with  their  hands  on  farms,  in  mines ; 
Some  building;  some  at  forges;  at  machines 
Weaving  our  garments;  others  more  endowed 
Loaned  to  us  from  the  higher  planes  of  being, 
Men  of  the  Over-Soul,  inventors,  dreamers, 
Planners  of  longer  railroads,  bigger  mills, 
The  great  preparers  for  the  finer  souls 
That  build  the  dome,  the  finishers  of  things, 
Prophets  of  God,  musicians,  artists,  poets, 
As  we've  all  seen  how  Colonel  Egerton 
In  his  third  story  has  his  books  and  pictures — 
Suppose  a  bitter  wind  of  discontent 
Should  shake  the  great  walls  of  this  social  order, 
Set  the  first  story  men  against  the  second, 
The  second  against  the  third,  until  the  mass, 
Throwing  their  tools  down  on  the  world's  great 

floor, 

Should  clamor  up  the  dome  for  pens  and  brushes, 
Shutting  their  eyes  to  the  cold  facts  of  life 
That  we  climb  up  Life's  ladder  by  degrees — 
189 


The  Americans 


(His  attention  is  attracted  for  a  moment  to  a 
group  of  men  that  has  been  collecting  forward 
centre,  evidently  concerned  with  whatever  it  is 
that  is  going  on  in  the  side  room) 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

(Recovering  himself  quickly) 
But  I'm  afraid,  my  friends 

SEVERAL. 

Go  on !    Go  on ! 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

I'm  wasting  good  material  for  a  sermon. 

A  MAN'S  VOICE. 
Pearls  before  swine. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 
I  started  to  say  brethren. 
(Laughter) 

A  LADY. 

(In  the  foreground) 
Isn't  he  just  too  bright  for  anything! 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

But  now 

190 


The  Americans 


A  MAN. 

{Joining  the  group) 
What's  up  ? 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

To  come  home  to  the  task 
That  brother  Egerton  lays  upon  our  ears. 
We  have  all  of  us  read  stories  and  seen  things. 
(Laughter) 

A  VOICE. 

But  ghosts  of  trees? 
(General  laughter) 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 
That,  I  admit,  is  rare. 

(Mrs.  Egerton,  who,  since  the  ringing  of  the  tel- 
ephone bell,  has  shown  an  increasing  anxiety 
as  to  the  message  that  has  come,  unable  longer 
to  contain  herself,  comes  hurriedly  forward 
through  the  people) 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

Don't  let  us  scare  you,  sister  Egerton. 

(Laughter.  The  people  turn  just  in  time  to  see 
Governor  Braddock,  General  Chadbourne,  and 
Ralph  Ardsley  with  overcoats  on  and  hats  in 
their  hands,  stealing  across  to  get  out  forward 
right.  Mrs.  Egerton  hurries  into  the  room 
from  which  they  came) 
191 


The  Americans 


RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
It's  nothing. 

(The  three  go  out) 

VOICES. 

What's  the  matter?     What's  the  matter? 

PALE  LADY. 

It's  something  terrible,  I  know  it  is. 

LADY  IN  BLACK. 

We  always  have  to  pay  for  our  good  times. 

(George  Egerton  and  Gladys  Egerton  come 
quickly  from  the  conservatory  and  enter  the 
side  room) 

ELDERLY  LADY. 

I  shouldn't  wonder  if  those  horrid  strikers 
Were  burning  the  mill. 

LADY  IN  BLACK. 

Or  may  be  some  one's  hurt. 

LADY  WITH  THE  CONSPICUOUS  COIFFURE. 
Provoking,  isn't  it? 

FAT  LADY. 

What  would  we  better  do? 
192 


The  Americans 


YOUNG  MATRON. 
(Calling  out) 

Please  tell  us  what's  the  trouble. 
(A  silence) 

PALE  LADY. 
I  shall  faint. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

(Coming  forward) 

It  has  been  suggested,  friends,  in  view  of  this 
Personal  something  that  has  happened  here — 
I  don't  know  what  it  is,  but  we  all  know 
In  trouble  how  we  like  to  be  alone. 
Later  I'll  call  them  up  and  for  us  all 
Extend  our  sympathy  when  we  know  the  cause. 

(There  is  a  movement  of  people  departing) 

PINK  LADY. 

I  wonder  who  it  is? 

FAT  LADY. 

They've  shut  the  door. 

LADY  WITH  THE  CONSPICUOUS  COIFFURE. 

'Twas  more  like  anger;  didn't  you  see  his  face? 

LADY  IN  BLACK. 

When  everything  was  so,  so  beautiful! 
193 


The  Americans 


(They  vanish  with  the  other  guests.  A  minute 
or  so  later  the  Butler  enters,  right  rear,  and 
walks  as  though  dazed  through  the  empty  hall) 

A  MAID. 

(Appearing  right  rear) 
Charlie! 

SECOND  MAID. 

(Appears  beside  her) 
What  is  it? 

BUTLER. 

(Without  turning) 
Trouble  at  the  mill. 

FIRST  MAID. 
Charlie! 

BUTLER. 
That's  all  I  know. 

SECOND  MAID. 
A  riot? 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

(Appearing  forward  left) 

Gone! 
Father,  they've  gone! 

194 


The  Americans 


GEORGE  EGERTON. 

(Comes  in  quickly) 
Look  in  the  rooms. 
(Goes  rear) 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

(Looks  in  the  room  forward  right) 
They've  gone! 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

(Calls  into  the  conservatory) 
Chester!     Marjorie!     Well,  111  be  damned! 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

I  hate  him,  O  I  hate  him! 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 
That's  what  comes! 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 
What  will  we  ever  do!    Just  think  of  it! 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

(To  the  Butler) 
Why  do  you  stand  that  way? 

(Comes  to  the  door  forward  left) 

O  do  shut  up, 
Mother. 

(Donald  Egerton  comes  in,  putting  on  his  over- 
coat) 

195 


The  Americans 


MRS.  EGERTON. 

(Following  him) 
Remember,  Donald,  he's  our  son. 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

Always  defending  him!    You  make  me  sick. 

MRS.  EGERTOK. 

You've  always  said  you  never  in  your  life 
Lost  hold  upon  yourself. 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 
No  dance  to-night. 

EGERTON. 

( To  the  Butler) 

Tell  Jack  to  bring  the  car  to  the  front  door. 
(The  Butler  goes  out  centre  right) 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

Wait,  father,  till  I  get  my 

(Starts  for  the  room  forward  left) 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

If  he's  done  it — 

He  has  some  reason,  Donald.    And  you  know 
Jergens  has  never  liked  him. 

(Harry  Egerton  comes  in  right  rear,  his  hat  and 
shoulders  covered  with  snow) 
I96 


The  Americans 


MRS.  EGERTON. 
Harry!    Harry! 

(She  hurries  to  him  and  embraces  him) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
Mother ! 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
My  son! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
I'm  sorry. 

(George  Egerton  reappears) 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

I  just  hate  you! 
You  selfish  thing !    See  what  you've  done ! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
I'm  sorry. 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

(With  a  sneer) 
He's  very  sorry,  sister. 

EGERTON. 
A  pretty  son ! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

I  hadn't  the  least  intention,  father 

197 


The  Americans 


GEORGE  EGERTON. 
Damn  you! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
Who  'phoned  it  in? 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

What  is  it  you've  done,  Harry? 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

(To   the  Butler  and   the  Maids   who   have  ap- 
peared at  the  doors) 
Get  away  from  there! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Father 

(Egerton  tosses  his  overcoat  into  the  side  room) 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

Harry,  is  it  true 
You  kept  the  men  from  going  back  to  work? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

I  wanted  to  have  a  talk  with  father  first. 

EGERTON 
ym! 

198 


The  Americans 


GEORGE  EGERTON. 

(To  his  mother) 
There! 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

But  hear  him,  Donald. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

All  my  life 

I've  wanted  to  say  something  to  you,  father; 
Especially  since  I  went  to  work.    You  once, 
When  I  came  home  from  college,  you  remember, 
And  hadn't  made  my  mind  up  what  to  do, 
What  my  life  work  should  be 

EGERTON. 
A  pretty  son! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

We  talked  together  and  you  said  that  now 
Three  things  lay  open  to  me,  that  I  could  choose 
And  that  you'd  back  me  up.    First,  there  was  Art. 
And  though  you  didn't  say  so,  I  could  see 
You'd  have  been  glad  if  I  had  chosen  that. 
I  had  a  talent  for  it,  so  you  said, 
And  I  could  study  with  the  best  of  them. 
You'd  set  aside  a  hundred  thousand  dollars; 
And  I  could  finish  up  by  travelling, 
Seeing  the  beautiful  buildings  of  the  world ; 
That  I  could  take  my  time,  then  settle  down 
And  glorify  my  land :  that's  what  you  said. 
Then  there  was  Public  Life.    You'd  start  me  in 
199 


The  Americans 


By  giving  me  the  Courier.    That,  you  said, 

Would  give  me  at  once  a  standing  among  men 

And  training  in  political  affairs. 

And  that  if  I  made  good  you'd  see  to  it 

I  had  a  seat  in  Congress,  and  in  the  end 

That  probably  I'd  be  Governor  of  the  State. 

And  then  you  paused.    You  didn't  like  the  third. 

Business,  you  said,  was  an  unpleasant  life. 

'Twas  all  right  as  you'd  used  it,  as  a  means, 

But  as  an  end — And  then  you  used  words,  father, 

That  changed  my  life  although  you  didn't  know  it — 

'Business,  my  son,  is  war;  needful  at  times, 

But  as  a  life, — you  shook  your  head  and  sighed. 

\Vith  that  we  ended  it,  for  some  one  came 

And  I  went  out.     Six  years  ago  last  June, 

The  seventh  of  June ;  I  can't  forget  the  day. 

The  sun  was  shining  but  a  strange  new  light 

Lay  over  everything.    All  of  a  sudden 

It  dawned  upon  my  mind  that  I'd  been  reared 

Inside  a  garden  full  of  flowers  and  trees, 

And  only  now  had  chanced  upon  the  gate 

And  stepped  out.    There  was  smoke  upon  the  skies 

And  a  rumbling  of  strange  wagons  in  the  street. 

I  was  afraid.    For  every  man  I  met 

Seemed  just  about  to  ask,  'What  side  are  you  on?' 

And  I  was  twenty-one  and  didn't  know. 

EGERTON. 

You  seem  to  have  found  out  since  you've  been  away. 
200 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 

I'd  always  thought  'twas  garden  everywhere. 
I  walked  on  up  the  river  and  sat  down 
Upon  the  logs  up  there,  and  night  came  on. 
And  in  the  waters  flowing  at  my  feet 
The  lighted  land  went  by,  cities  and  towns 
And  the  vast  murmur  and  the  daily  life 
Of  those  that  toil,  the  hunger  and  the  care. 
And  in  my  heart  I  knew  that  it  was  true, 
That  what  you  said  was  true.    And  I  came  back 
Filled  with  such  peace  as  I  had  never  known. 
Til  enter  business,  father.'    And  I  did. 
I  started  at  the  bottom  in  the  mill 
Helping  the  engineer,  and  from  the  saws 
Carried  the  lumber  with  the  other  men. 
Then  in  the  yard.    You  always  praised  my  work. 
I'm  in  the  office  now  at  twenty-seven, 
And  Secretary  of  the  Company. 
I  think  I  know  the  business  pretty  well. 

You've  said  so.     But  somehow 

(He  pauses) 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
What  is  it,  Harry? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

In  Public  Life,  if  I  had  chosen  that, 

And  after  six  years'  work  that  you  approved, 

If  one  day  I  had  come 

201 


The  Americans 


EGERTON. 

You  want  the  mill. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

'Father,  I  can't  go  on;  my  way  is  blocked 
And  all  my  hopes  are  falling  to  the  ground.' 
There's  nothing,  not  one  thing  you  wouldn't  have 

done. 

Or  if  I  had  a  building  half  way  up, 
My  masterpiece,  a  mighty  capitol 
That  finished  would  be  known  throughout  the  land, 
And  I  had  met  with  interference,  men 
Who  had  no  vision — you  know  what  I  mean — 
And  I  had  come  to  you,  'Father,  I'm  thwarted,' 

0  I  can  see  with  one  sweep  of  your  hand 
How  you  would  clear  the  skies. 

EGERTON. 

You  want  the  mill. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
Yes,  father. 

EGERTON. 

1  thought  so. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
I  want  the  mill. 

202 


The  Americans 


GEORGE  EGERTON. 

And  thought  you'd  blackmail  father. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Listen  to  me! 

For  probably  in  all  my  life  I'll  never 
Speak  to  you  as  I'm  speaking  now,  my  father. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

Donald,  I  beg  of  you 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 
Well,  I'll  be 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
George ! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

In  these  six  years  for  one  cause  or  another 
There've  been  three  strikes  that  have  cost  the  Com- 
pany thousands 

In  money,  to  say  nothing  of  those  things 
That  all  the  money  in  the  world  can't  buy. 
Now  let  me  ask,  my  father,  if  this  loss, 
Instead  of  springing  from  these  strikes,  had  come 
Through  breakdowns  of  the  machinery,  or  in  the 

camps 

Through  failure  to  get  the  timber  out  in  time, 
Wouldn't  you  have  dismissed  the  man  in  charge? 
203 


The  Americans 


Then  why  do  you  let  Jergens  run  the  mill  ? 
Hasn't  he  failed,  and  miserably,  with  the  men? 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

What  have  you  to  do  with  it? 

EGERTON. 

I'll  attend  to  this. 

(George  Egerton  walks  away  and  stands  by  the 
pine  trees,  picking  off  and  biting  the  needles} 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Is  it  because  the  earnings  have  increased? 
Think  what  it's  cost  you,  father.     In  every  mill 
Jergens  has  touched  he's  left  a  cursing  there 
That's  all  come  back  on  us.    Why,  my  father, 
Our  name's  become  a  by-word  through  the  State, 
'As  hard  as  Egerton.'    And  when  I  think 
Of  what  might  be,  the  good-will  and  the  peace, 
The  happiness!    There's  not  the  least  excuse 
For  this  cut  in  wages,  father,  and  you  know  it. 

EGERTON. 
Urn! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

You  can't  help  but  know  it.    You've  the  books; 
You   know  what  you've  been  making.     But  that 
aside: 

204 


The  Americans 


To  come  to  what  I  would  say:     You've  won  this 

strike. 

You  have  the  men  in  your  power  and  you  can  say, 
'Go  back/   and  they'll  go  back.     But  you  won't 

do  it. 

EGERTON. 
Won't  I  ? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Will  you,  when  you  know  you're  wrong? 
Wlien   you   know   you're  losing   friends   who   love 

what's  right? 

Think  of  the  sentiment  against  you,  father. 
No,  father,  you  don't  know  what's  going  on. 

EGERTON. 

It  seems  I  don't. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

If  you  knew  how  they  live 
And  the  hard  time  they  have  to  get  along. 
It  isn't  fair,  my  father,  it  isn't  fair. 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

(In  tears,  to  her  mother) 
Yes,  you  don't  care. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Father,  you  love  this  land. 
205 


The  Americans 


There's  never  been  a  day  in  all  your  life, 

If  there'd  been  war,  you  wouldn't  have  closed  the 

mill 

And  gone  and  died  upon  the  field  of  battle 
If  the  country  had  called  to  you  in  her  need. 
And  I  can  see  you  how  you'd  scorn  the  man, 
If  he  were  serving  as  a  General, 
Who'd  keep  his  rank  and  file  as  poorly  fed 
And  ragged  as  he  could. 
(The  telephone  bell  rings) 

GLADYS  EGERTQN. 

They're  calling  up 
To  know  about  it! 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

(Starts  for  the  room,  then  stops) 
What  shall  I  tell  them,  father? 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

O  have  them  come  back,  papa,  have  them  come 
back! 

EGERTON. 

(Keeping  his  eye  on  Harry) 
Tell  them  what  you  please. 
(George  goes  out) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Father,  buy  Jergens  out. 
206 


The  Americans 


GLADYS  EGERTON. 

(Calling  into  the  room) 
Tell  them  it's  all  right,  brother,  that  it's  nothing. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Give  him  his  price  and  let  him  go  his  way 

EGERTON. 

(Calling  toward  the  room) 
A  misunderstanding. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

And  let  me  run  the  mill. 
And  let  us  see,  my  father,  you  and  I, 
If  we  can't  make  that  place  of  work  down  there 
As  famous  for  its  harmony  as  this  house. 
A  land  is  not  its  timber  but  its  people, 
And  not  its  Art,  my  father,  but  its  men. 
Let's  try  to  make  this  town  a  place  of  peace 
And  helpfulness.    What  do  you  say,  my  father  ? 

EGERTON. 

And  that's  your  life  work! 
(Gladys  goes  into  the  room) 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

(Approaching  him) 

Donald 

207 


The  Americans 


EGERTON. 
Go  away. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

You've  asked  me  why  it  is  I  cannot  sleep. 
It's  that,  Donald,  it's  that !    Give  him  the  mill. 
They're  human  beings,  Donald,  like  ourselves. 

EGERTON. 

And  you've  been  planning  this! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

I  had  hoped,  my  father, 

That  things  would  so  arrange  themselves  that  I — 
That  you  would  make  me  manager  of  the  mill. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

Donald,  it's  your  nobler  self  you  hear. 

EGERTON. 

(Looks  at  him  a  long  time) 

What  a  fool 

(Turns  away) 

what  a  fool  I've  been! 
(Walks  about) 

VOICES  OF  GEORGE  AND  GLADYS. 
The  mine!     Father! 

(They  come  running  in) 

The  mine!    A  rumor  that  the  mine's  been  found! 
208 


The  Americans 


EGERTON. 
Who  is  it? 

GEORGE  EGERTOK. 

I  don't  know.    They're  on  the  wire. 
(Egerton  goes  out) 

GEORGE  EGERTOJST. 

All  over  town,  they  say. 

(Brother  and  sister  wait  near  the  door,  tense,  lis- 
tening) 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

(With  a  sigh) 
Everything ! 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

(Under  her  breath) 

George, 
Think  of  the  things  we'll  have! 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 
Be  still! 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

(Turns  and  looks  at  Harry,  whose  face  shows 
the  sadness  he  feels  at  his  father's  refusal) 

Harry. 
Harry,  are  you  well  ? 

209 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 

Yes,  mother. 
(A  pause) 

Mother 

(Distant  cannon  are  heard) 

GEORGE  EGERTQN. 
Hark! 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

(Starting  back  through  the  house) 
The  mine !  the  mine ! 
(The  servants  appear) 
Father  has  found  the  mine! 
(Further  booming  is  heard) 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

There  go  the  guns!    They're  celebrating,  father! 
(He  starts  for  the  stairs  and  goes  bounding  up 
three  steps  at  a  time) 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

(Calling  after  him) 

We'll  have  them  back  and  announce  it !    We'll  have 
them  back! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Mother,  I've  found  the  mine. 
210 


The  Americans 


GLADYS  EGERTON. 

(Whirling  round  on  her  toe) 
Now,  now  you  see! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

This  morning  on  the  mountains. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
Can  it  be! 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

(Comes  running  forward) 
I'll  have  my  car  now,  won't  I,  daddy,  daddy? 
(She  disappears  into  the  room,  forward  left) 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

(Strangely) 
I  knew  it!    O  I  knew  that  He  would  come! 

(Turns  upon  her  son  a  look  of  awe) 
Harry!     Harry! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Father  must  do  what's  right. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
You'll  build  a  mill. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
The  ground  is  white  with  snow. 
211 


The  Americans 


(Egerton  appears  in  the  doorway  and  stands  look- 
ing at  his  son) 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

(Clinging  to  his  hand) 
What  is  it,  papa?    What's  the  matter,  daddy? 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

(Appearing  upon  the  stairs) 
They've  run  the  flag  up  on  the  Court  House,  father ! 

EGERTON. 

That's  what  it  means! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Father,  I'll  buy  the  mill. 

EGERTON. 

That's  what  it  means! 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 
What,  daddy? 

EGERTON. 

You'll  hold  my  men! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

I'll  mortgage  the  mine  and  pay  you,  father. 
212 


The  Americans 


GLADYS  EGERTON. 
Oh! 

EGERTON. 

And  if  I  don't  you'll  back  the  men,  eh? 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 
Oh! 

(She  backs  toward  George,  who  has  come  down 
the  stairs) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

I'll  pay  you  twice  its  value,  father. 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

(At  a  word  from  Gladys) 
What! 

(Egerton  drops  his  eyes  for  a  moment  and  stands 
as  though  in  deep  thought) 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

Be  careful,  Donald ! 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

(To  Harry) 
I  hate  you! 

GEORGE  EGERTOJJ. 

(With  a  sneer) 
Big  man! 

213 


The  Americans 


EGERTON. 

George, 
Get  Jergens. 

GEORGE  EGERTON. 

(To  Harry) 
Mill-hand! 

(Goes  out  left) 

EGERTON. 

Tell  him  to  lock  the  mill 
And  have  this  notice  tacked  up  on  the  gate, 
'Closed  for  a  year.' 

VOICE  OF  GEORGE. 
Good! 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 
Good! 

EGERTON. 

I'll  let  her  rot. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
And  winter  coming  on! 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 
I'm  glad!     I'm  glad! 

214 


The  Americans 


EGERTON. 

War  or  submission,  eh? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

(Goes  to  his  mother) 
Mother. 

(Kisses  her) 

EGERTON. 

I'll  show  you 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

(Starting  for  the  door) 
Father,  you'll  remember  in  the  years  to  be 
How  I  came  to  you  one  November  day 
And  asked  ^our  help  to  give  this  country  peace. 

EGERTON. 

Go  to  your  rabble! 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

(Breaks  out  crying) 
Think  of  it! 

EGERTON. 

I'll  show  you 
How  you  can  buy  me  and  my  property! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

(From  back  in  the  hall) 
Property  was  made  for  men. 
215 


The  Americans 


EGERTON. 

And  don't  you  ever 
Darken  that  door! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

And  you  can't  keep  it  idle 
While  \rnen  depend  upon  it  for  their  bread. 
(He  goes  out) 

EGERTON. 

(Roaring  after  him) 

You  dare  to  lay  your  hands  upon  that  mill! 
(He  stands  staring  at  the  door) 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

(  Wonderingly  ) 
It  wasn't  our  son!    It  wasn't  our  son! 

(The  cannon  are  heard  in  volley  upon  volley  as 
of  a  town  giving  itself  up  to  celebration) 

EGERTON. 

(Calls  into  the  room,  left) 
Tell  him  to  go  right  down,  that  probably 
There'll  be  an  attack  upon  it. 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

(Shaken  with  sobs) 
Think  of  it! 

216 


The  Americans 


MRS.  EGERTON. 
(As  before) 

That  gleam  about  his  brow !  And  now  he's  gone ! 
(She  wanders  back  in  the  hall  as  in  a  dream) 

EGERTON. 
And  to  see  Chadbourne Are  you  listening? 

VOICE  OF  GEORGE. 
Yes. 


EGERTON-. 

To  Chadbourne  that  he  has  authority  from 
From  Egerton,  to  treat  them  all  alike. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

(Vacantly,  to  her  husband) 
What  have  you  done,  Donald ! 

EGERTON. 

That  I  expect 
The  mill  defended,  let  it  cost  what  may. 

GLADYS  EGERTON. 

I  hate  him,  O  I  hate  him! 


MRS.  EGERTON. 

(Who  has  come  forward  and  stands  facing  him) 
What  have  you  done! 

217 


The  Americans 


ACT  IV 

THE  LIVING  MILL 

Scene:  Inside  the  mill,  showing  in  front  a  sort  of 
half  storeroom,  half  office  shut  in  from  the  main  body 
of  the  mill  by  a  railing  in  the  centre  of  which  is  a  gate 
that  swings  in  and  out.  Far  back  in  this  main  body 
of  the  mill  one  sees  a  number  of  great  gang  saws  from 
which  off-carriers,  with  freshly  saiued  slabs  and  lum- 
ber upon  their  rollers,  branch  right  from  the  main 
line  that  runs  the  full  length  of  the  mill.  Through  an 
opening  in  the  far  end,  whence  the  logs  are  drawn  up 
an  incline  to  the  saws,  one  sees  as  through  a  telescope 
a  portion  of  the  river  and  of  the  mountains  on  the 
opposite  bank.  Up  toward  the  front,  left,  in  this  main 
body  of  the  mill  is  a  wide  door  that  opens  outside.  In 
the  foreground,  within  the  space  partitioned  off  by  the 
railing,  a  pair  of  stairs,  evidently  connecting  with  the 
outdoors  on  the  ground  floor,  comes  up  rear  left.  Cen- 
tre, against  this  left  wall,  a  pole  six  or  eight  inches  in 
diameter,  and  to  all  appearances  only  recently  set,  goes 
up  through  a  hole  in  the  roof.  Upon  the  floor  at  the 
foot  of  the  pole,  from  which  two  long  ropes  hang 
down,  lies  a  large  American  flag  partially  strung  upon 
the  rope.  Forward  from  the  pole  is  a  door  which  ap- 
parently is  no  longer  in  use,  a  strip  being  nailed  across 
218 


The  Americans 


it.  About  this  end  of  the  enclosure  are  piles  of  win- 
dow sash  and  kegs  of  nails.  Centre  rear,  at  right 
angles  to  the  side  walls,  so  that  one  sitting  upon  a 
stool  may  look  back  into  the  mill,  is  a  long  checkers' 
desk  with  two  or  three  stools  before  it  and  with  the 
usual  litter  of  papers,  books,  and  a  telephone  upon  it. 
In  the  right  wall,  rear,  where  one  coming  up  the 
stairs  may  walk  straight  on  and  enter,  is  a  door  con- 
necting with  the  main  office. 

As  the  Scene  opens,  something  very  important  seems 
to  be  going  on  in  this  main  office.  A  crowd  of  men, 
workmen  and  militiamen  together,  are  packed  about 
the  door,  intent  upon  whatever  it  is  that  is  transpiring 
inside.  Forward,  away  from  the  crowd,  a  small  group, 
mostly  of  militiamen,  is  gathered  about  two  guards 
with  rifles  in  their  hands,  who  have  evidently  just 
come  in.  Back,  beyond  the  railing  and  close  to  the 
crowd,  a  group  of  workmen  about  W es  Dicey  is  en- 
gaged in  a  heated  argument.  And  farther  back  in  the 
mill,  especially  about  the  large  door,  left,  are  bodies  of 
men  talking  together.  As  the  Scene  opens,  and  for  a 
few  minutes  afterwards,  some  one  up  the  pole  is  heard 
singing. 

Time:  Saturday  afternoon  the  week  following  the 
preceding  Act. 

A  WORKMAN. 

(Comes  from  the  crowd  to  the  militiamen) 
Servin'  the  papers  on  the  mine,  you  think? 
219 


The  Americans 


MILITIAMAN. 

He's  too  damn  proud  to  play  the  constable. 

SECOND  MILITIAMAN. 

Maybe  it's  terms  from  Egerton. 

THIRD  MILITIAMAN. 

(To  Fourth  Militiaman,  who  has  just  come  up 
the  stairs  with  his  shoulders  hung  with  knap- 
sacks) 
Chadbourne's  here. 

SECOND  WORKMAN. 

Egerton  makes  no  terms  till  he's  on  top. 

FIFTH  MILITIAMAN. 

He'll  have  his  hands  full.     Seen  the  evening  papers  ? 
(He  unfolds  a  paper  and  a  group  gathers  about 
him) 

CRIES. 

(Near  the  door) 
That's  right !  that's  right ! 

THIRD  WORKMAN. 

(From  the  edge  of  the  crowd) 
What  are  they  sayin',  Mike? 
220 


The  Americans 


FOURTH  WORKMAN. 

(On  the  edge  of  the  crowd,  looking  toward  the 

group  about  Dicey) 
We  can't  hear  nothin'  with  that  racket  there. 

FIRST  MILITIAMAN. 

It's  his  lost  sheep  he's  after. 

SECOND  MILITIAMAN. 
Let  him  bark. 

FOURTH  WORKMAN. 

You've  stood  by  us,  boys,  and  we'll  stand  by  you. 

VOICE. 

(From  back  in  the  mill) 
Tell  him  we  won't,  no  matter  what  he  says! 

(The  Sixth  Militiaman  comes  up  the  stairs,  with 
four  or  five  bugles,  and  shows  surprise  to  see 
the  crowd  gathered) 

THIRD  MILITIAMAN. 

(In  the  group  about  the  paper) 
And  Smith  and  Balding  Brothers  1 

FOURTH  WORKMAN. 
Lemme  see  it. 

FIFTH  MILITIAMAN. 

Give   him    a    rouse.     What    say    you.     One,    two, 
three. 

221 


The  Americans 


SEVERAL. 

Hurrah  for  Harry  Egerton!     Hurrah! 

VOICE. 

(Rear) 
Hurrah  for  the  Living  Mill ! 

A  GENERAL  SHOUT. 

(Back  in  the  mill) 
The  Living  Mill! 

FIFTH  MILITIAMAN. 

I  guess,  by  God,  he  knows  where  we  stand  now. 
(  They  join  the  crowd  about  the  door.    Jim  King 
comes  through  the  gate  in  the  railing,  followed 
by  Rome  Masters,  who  is  considerably  intoxi- 
cated) 

JIM  KING. 

And  hug  'em  round  the  neck,  if  I  was  you. 
That's  what  I'd  do. 

ROME  MASTERS. 

Now  you  just  stop  that,  Jim. 

JIM  KING. 

Why  did  you  tell  Aug.  Jergens  that  you  would  ? 

ROME  MASTERS. 

I  ain't  said  nothin'  about  backin'  down. 
But  I  ain't  nothin'  agin  him. 
222 


The  Americans 


JIM  KING. 

There  you  go ! 

It  does  beat  hell.    You  just  keep  saying  that, 
That  you  ain't  nothin'  agin  him,  and  you'll  see. 

VOICE. 

(Near  the  door) 
Who's  to  be  judge  what's  for  the  Public  Good? 

ROME  MASTERS. 

I  ain't  said  that  I  wouldn't  do  the  job. 

JIM  KING. 

(Stands  on  tip-toe  and  looks  over  the  crowd,  then 

turns  back  to  Masters} 

Didn't  you  think  and  didn't  I  think  and  Wes 
That  when  they  cut  the  pie  we'd  get  our  share, 
One  big  long  table  with  no  head  and  tail 
But  all  the  boys  the  same,  and  everything 
Piled  on  it  and  divided? 

(The  group  about  Dicey  become  more  noisy) 

VOICE. 

(From  the  crowd) 
Put  him  out! 

(Dicey  comes  from  the  centre  of  the  group  and 
catches  sight  of  King,  who  beckons  to  him) 

FIRST  WORKMAN. 

(From  the  group) 

If  you  don't  like  it,  Wes,  why  don't  you  leave? 
223 


The  Americans 


SECOND  WORKMAN. 

(Following  Dicey) 

Why  in  the  hell  don't  you  leave?    We're  free  men. 
(Dicey,  King  and  Masters  walk  over  to  the  pile 
of  sash,  left) 

THIRD  WORKMAN. 

(Of  the  Dicey  faction) 
Offer  'em  coppers  for  their  Union  cards. 

FOURTH  WORKMAN. 

And  where's  the  mine  that  you  was  goin'  to  share? 

FIFTH  WORKMAN. 

You  want  old  Egerton  to  have  it,  eh? 

VOICE. 

(Back  in  the  mill) 
Bring  on  the  Constitution  and  let's  vote! 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 

(Comes  out  of  the  crowd) 
Don't  use  that  name. 
(To  the  Dicey  faction) 

Let's  have  no  trouble,  men. 
This  ain't  no  time  to  quarrel  among  ourselves. 

(To  the  other  party) 
Try  to  remember,  boys,  it's  his  name,  too. 

(Suddenly    there    is    a    tremendous    cheering    by 
224 


The  Americans 


those  about  the  door.  A  militiaman  hurries 
from  the  crowd,  grabs  a  bugle  from  the  Sixth 
Militiaman  and,  darting  out  centre,  starts  to 
blow  it) 

SIXTH  MILITIAMAN. 

(Excitedly) 
Don't  do  that!    Here! 

MILITIAMAN. 

(With  the  knapsacks) 
Don't  do  that! 

(  The  crowd  begins  to  break  up,  many  of  the  men 
climbing  back  over  the  railing  into  the  mill 
proper) 

MILITIAMAN. 

(Comes  sliding  down  the  pole) 
What's  the  trouble? 

JIM  KING. 

(Returning  with  Dicey  and  Masters) 
They're  out  for  their  selves,  damn  'em ;  we'll  be  too. 

SEVENTH  MILITIAMAN. 

(Coming  away  with  two  or  three  others) 
Young  Egerton's  pure  gold  if  ever  was. 

WES  DICEY. 

Don't  make  no  move,  though,  Jim,  till  we  see  first. 
225 


The  Americans 


(He  separates  himself  from  the  other  two,  and 
they  mingle  with  the  men) 

EIGHTH  MILITIAMAN. 

That's  just  the  way  they  did  the  old  man's  farm. 
We  had  a  place  and  didn't  want  to  sell. 
That  made  no  difference.     Eminent  Domain. 
'Out  of  the  way  there,  home!' 

VOICE. 

(From  back  in  the  mill) 
What  did  he  say? 

VOICE. 

(Near  the  door) 

Then  if  the  Company  can  take  men's  lands 
To  build  their  railroads  through 

SECOND  VOICE. 

That's  a  good  point! 

FIRST  VOICE. 

And  if  you  say  the  Law's  the  same  for  all, 
Then   why   can't   we   take   theirs   when   we   need 
bread? 

FIFTH  MILITIAMAN. 

(Getting  a  group  together) 
Be  smoking  when  he  comes  out. 
226 


The  Americans 


FIRST  MILITIAMAN. 
Stamper !     Kids ! 

THIRD  VOICE. 

(Rear) 
What  Egerton  wants,  that's  for  the  Public  Good! 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 

There,  there  you're  not  remembering  it  again! 
(General  Chadbourne  comes  from  the  office ',  fol- 
lowed by  Captain  Haskell,  and  after  these 
Harry  Egerton,  Sam  Williams,  Harvey  Ander- 
son, Buck  Bentley,  and  others.  The  militiamen 
make  a  big  smoke) 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

You'll  not  lay  hands  on  property  in  this  State. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

The  right  of  men  to  work  is  just  as  sacred 

As  is  the  right  of  property,  General  Chadbourne, 

And  more  important  to  the  general  welfare. 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

These  gates  have  stood  wide  open  here  for  weeks. 

SAM  WILLIAMS, 
And  on  whose  terms? 

227 


The  Americans 


WORKMEN. 

That's  the  point;  on  whose  terms? 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

Of  course  you'd  like  to  make  the  terms  yourselves. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Why  shouldn't  they? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

WTiat  would  you  have  men  do? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

You  say  the  State's  been  fair  with  them.  All  right. 
But  it  ain't  the  State  that  feeds  them,  it's  the  Mill; 
And  it  ain't  the  State  that  clothes  them,  it's  the 

Mill; 

And  it  ain't  the  State  they  think  of  when  they  think 
Of  better  homes  hereafter,  it's  the  Mill. 
And  there  ain't  no  fairness  that  ain't  fair  in  here, 
And  there  ain't  no  freedom  that  ain't  free  in  here, 
Though  there  ain't  no  use  of  saying  that  to  you. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 
We  have  to  live. 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

(Ignoring  Anderson,  as  he  does  throughout) 
Employers  have  the  right 
228 


The  Americans 


To  buy  their  labor  in  the  open  market, 

And  if  you  fellows  here  can't  meet  the  price— 

VOICE. 

(From  the  crowd) 
You'd  have  us  starve? 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

You'll  have  to  step  aside 
And  give  way  to  some  stronger  men  that  can 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

And  you  expect  men  to  obey  a  law 
That  gives  no  hope  of  anything  but  this? 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

You'd  been  to  work  and  you'd  been  satisfied 
If  some  outsiders  hadn't  come  along 
And  fired  your  ignorant  minds. 

(Murmurs  in  the  crowd) 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 
|  v  Hold  your  tongues,  men. 

HARRY 


^ 
Pardon  me,  General  Chadbourne  — 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(To  Buck  Bentley) 
Land  o'  the  free! 

229 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 

We  are  all  of  us  outsiders  in  a  way, 

Yourself  as  well  as  Harvey  here  and  I. 

But  in  a  way  there's  no  such  thing.    We're  men, 

And  that  which  injures  one  injures  us  all. 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

I'm  here  on  duty;  quite  a  different  thing. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

What  I  have  done  I  have  done  not  without  cause 
Nor  hastily. 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

You  know  yourself  these  men 
Would  have  been  to  work. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 
We'd  had  to 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 
There  you  are! 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

If  it  hadn't  been  for  Mr.  Egerton. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Yes,  probably  they  would. 
230 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
That's  just  the  point. 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 
Then  who  is  responsible? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
They'd  gone  to  work. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

For  this,  I  am.     But  for  conditions  here 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

( To  Captain  Haskell) 
Remember  that. 

WORKMEN. 

No!    We!    We  seized  the  mill! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
I  led  them. 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 

It  was  we  unlocked  the  gates. 

WORKMEN. 

But  we  marched  in,  so  we're  responsible. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

We  won't  dispute  about  who  did  it,  partners. 
231 


The  Americans 


There's  glory  enough  for  all. 
(Cheers) 

I'm  in  it  too. 
(He  laughs) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

But  for  conditions  that  produced  this  strike 
God  knows  and  I  know  it  was  not  these  men. 
I  only  wish  that  that  was  farther  off. 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

If  wrong's  been  done  there's  legal  remedies. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Conditions,  General,  that  outreach  the  law. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

For  it's  that  'open  market' 

VOICE. 

(From  the  crowd) 
Who  makes  the  law? 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

Their  legal  right  to  buy  the  cheapest  men 
And  drive  them  just  as  hard  and  just  as  long 
As  they  can  stand  it. 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 

And  no  troops  are  sent. 
232 


The  Americans 


CRIES. 

(Some  militiamen  joining  in) 
That's  right! 

WORKMEN. 

No  troops  for  us!    No  troops  for  us! 

( This  cry  is  caught  up  by  the  crowd  and  is  car- 
ried on  back  through  the  mill.  Chadbourne 
looks  at  the  militiamen  and  unbuttons  his  over- 
coat and  feels  about  in  his  pockets) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Pardon  me,  General,  if  I  speak  right  out, 
But  I've  seen  wages  lowered  to  buy  lands, 
And  I've  seen  bread  taken  from  these  men  here 
To  gamble  with.    There  are  some  things,  General 

Chadbourne, 

That  can't  go  on.    We've  but  one  life  to  live 
And  we  just  can't  stand  by  and  see  some  things 
And  live.     It's  not  worth  while,    it's  not  worth 

while. 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 

And  while  you're  here  I  want  to  say  a  word, 
For  possibly  we  won't  see  you  any  more, 
And  they'll  be  asking  of  us  up  the  State. 
I  never  thought  of  it 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

(Handing  Haskell  a  notebook) 
Take  down  their  names. 
233 


The  Americans 


BUCK  BENTLEY. 

Till  Mr.  Egerton  made  his  talk  that  day; 
But  it's  a  fact  and  it  stares  you  in  the  face: 
When  Companies  are  wronged,  or  think  they  are, 
They  touch  the  wires  and  the  troops  are  sent, 
But  when  the  men  are  wronged,  or  think  they  are, 
It's  'legal  remedies.' 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

That's  well  put,  Comrade. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

That  don't  mean  anything. 

FIRST  MILITIAMAN. 

(To  Haskell) 
John  Stamper. 

FIRST  GUARD. 

I 
Guess  you  know  me. 

SECOND  MILITIAMAN. 
And  you  can  take  mine,  too. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Who  ever  saw  the  like  of  this  before! 

THIRD  MILITIAMAN. 
Kelley. 

234 


The  Americans 


SECOND  GUARD. 
And  mine. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

A  hundred  years  from  now 
They'll  write  them  in  the  larger  book  of  Fame. 

FOURTH  MILITIAMAN. 

This  is  the  third  time  we've  been  out  this  year. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
You  look  like  Israel  Putnam  and  Paul  Jones. 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 

We  came  down  here  to  see  the  square  thing  done; 
But  it's  got  to  work  both  ways. 

SIXTH  MILITIAMAN. 
And  mine. 

SEVENTH  MILITIAMAN. 

And  mine. 

I 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(To  Chadbourne) 

You're  all  right,  partner,  only  you  don't  see 
The  inside  of  this  thing  that's  happened  here. 
The  day's  gone  by  when  two  or  three  big  men 
Could  ride  her  to  and  fro  for  their  own  gain 
235 


The  Americans 


And  lay  her  up  and  starve  the  crew.    That's  past. 
We're  going  to  take  the  flags  down  of  the  Kings, 
Kings  of  Lumber,  Kings  of  Cotton,  Kings  of  Coal, 
From  one  end  to  the  other  of  this  land, 
And  we'll  all  be  Americans,  North  and  South 
And  East  and  West  until  you  touch  the  seas. 
And  there's  the  thing  that's  going  to  fly  the  mast. 

(Points  to  the  flag  on  the  floor) 
And  when  she  climbs  you'll  hear  the  guns  go  off 
Announcing   a   new   Independence   here. 

(Tremendous  cheering) 

(Two  militiamen  are  seen  coming  up  the  stairs, 
the  one  loaded  with  blankets,  the  other  with 
ten  or  twelve  rifles) 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

(To  Harry  Egerton) 
And  this  is  final,  eh? 

VOICE. 

(From  the  crowd) 
We'll  hold  the  mill! 

WORKMEN. 

(Catching  sight  of  the  two  militiamen) 
And  the  mine  too!     That's  right!     And  the  mine 

too! 

(Tremendous  cheering) 
236 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 

If  you  have  any  way  to  guarantee 
That  these  men  who  have  worked  here  many  years 
And  faithfully,  as  I  know,  will  have  their  right 
To  work  respected  and  at  an  honest  wage, 
And  that  while  there  are  profits  to  be  shared 
There'll  be  no  starving  time  among  these  men 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

Don't  think  because  you're  Mr.  Egerton 

That  you're  immune.    You'll  find  the  laws  the  same 

Whether  you're  Mr.  Egerton  or  not. 

(Starts  for  the  stairs} 
If  need  be  I'll  call  out  ten  thousand  men. 

VOICE. 

(Back  in  the  mill) 
Bring  on  the  Constitution  and  let's  vote! 

FIFTH  MILITIAMAN. 

( With  the  paper) 
You'll  have  your  hands  full  if  reports  are  true. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

We  none  of  us  can  tell  what  men  will  do. 

The  times  are  changing  and  the  days  bring  light. 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

You  mean  you'll  stir  up  mutiny  again  ? 
237 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 

I'll  see  they  get  the  truth,  then  let  them  choose. 
That  is  a  right  we  all  have,  General  Chadbourne. 

GENERAL  CHADBOURNE. 

You'll  have  no  chance  to  see  them. 

(Goes  down  the  stairs,  the  two  guards  leading 
the  way) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Very  well. 

Just  say  to  Governor  Braddock  it's  with  him. 
We'll  keep  right  on  at  work.    The  gates  shall  be 
Open  and  the  men  shall  come  and  go. 

CAPTAIN  HASKELL. 

(To  two  militiamen  who  are  busy  stringing  the 

flag  on  the  rope) 

Damn  pretty  men  you  are  to  raise  a  flag. 
You  ought  to  have  a  red  one, 

FIRST  MILITIAMAN. 
Go  on,  Haskell. 

SECOND  MILITIAMAN. 

We'll  see  what  kind  of  men  dare  take  it  down. 

CAPTAIN  HASKELL. 

Wait  till  Court  Martial  sits. 
238 


The  Americans 


(Disappears  down  the  stairs.  There  is  a  move- 
ment of  the  workmen  back  into  the  mill) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(Shouting') 
Now  let's  to  work ! 

( The  militiamen  gather  left,  and  to  some  of  them 
the  rifles,  knapsacks,  etc.,  are  distributed.  Buck 
Bentley,  who  has  taken  the  bugles  in  his  hands, 
walks  to  and  fro) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

You'd  better  be  off,  Bentley,  don't  you  think? 
They'll  turn  Hell  upside  down  to  get  that  mine. 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 

He  wanted  to  say  something  to  me. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(Calls  rear  left  to  Harry  Egerton,  who   is  en- 
gaged with  Dicey,  a  number  of  workmen  being 
gathered  about  them) 
Partner ! 

(They  stand  silent,  watching  the  group) 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 

Harry's  too  easy  with  him. 
239 


The  Americans 


A  WORKMAN. 

(Leaving  the  group  and  passing  rear,  calls  to  An- 
derson) 
The  same  old  sore. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

You've  noticed  any  change  these  past  few  days? 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 

In  Egerton,  you  mean?    Ain't  it  the  strain 
Of  breaking  with  his  family? 

(Harry  Egerton  starts  toward  them,  but  Dicey 
keeps  after  him,  the  men  following) 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 

(To  Anderson,  who   has  turned  aside  and  half 
pulled  from  his  inside  pocket  a  legal  looking 
document) 
What 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
His  will. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
(To  Dicey) 
It's  a  new  day,  my  friend,  a  glorious  day. 

VOICE. 

(Back  in  the  mill) 
'Twill  soon  be  night! 

240 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 

Try  to  forget  the  past 
And  everything  except  that  we  are  men 
Working  together  for  the  good  of  all. 

WES  DICEY. 

That  ain't  the  point  though,  Mr.  Egerton. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

You've  got  your  vote,  Wes,  same  as  we  have  ours, 
You    and    your    friends    have.      Why    ain't    that 

enough  ? 
Or  is  it  that  you  think  the  few  should  rule? 

WES  DICEY. 

There's  got  to  be  good  feelin'  all  around 

If  it's  to  hold  together  as  you  say; 

It's  got  to  be  plumbed  well.    And  I  don't  see, 

If  it's  to  be  a  workers'  commonwealth, 

How  you  can  keep  the  mine  out.    Course  it's  yours 

And  in  a  way  you  can  do  as  you  please, 

That  is,  if  you  was  like  most  men  you  could; 

But  bein'  different,  standin'  for  the  right, 

We  don't  just  see  how  you  can  say  'We'll  keep 

The  mine  out  and  devote  it  to  the  Cause.' 

If  the  boys  ain't  the  Cause,  tell  us  what  is. 

Maybe  it's  as  we're  ignorant  and  don't  know. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Please  do  not  put  things  in  this  bitter  way. 
241 


The  Americans 


The  Cause  is  what  you've  fought  for  all  these  years, 
A  chance  to  live  a  freer,  larger  life. 
But  in  this  struggle  are  you  men  alone? 
And  shall  we  as  we  climb  to  better  things 
Reach  down  no  help  to  others,  but  hold  fast 
To  all  we  get? 

SEVERAL. 
No!    No! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
Would  that  be  right? 

WES  DICEY. 

Another  point.    For  years  and  years  we've  had 
A  Union  here,  and  when  the  fight  came  on, 
'Twas  as  a  Union  that  we  made  the  fight. 
And  Sam  knows  this  is  true,  'twas  not  so  much 
The  cut  in  wages,  though,  that  took  our  strength, 
As  'twas  their  breakin'  of  the  Union  up 
As  made  us  say  'By  God,  we'll  fight  or  die.' 
Ain't  that  true,  boys? 

Two  OR  THREE. 
That's  true. 

WES  DICEY. 

And  then  you  come 

And  took  the  stand  you  did  as  they'd  no  right 
242 


The  Americans 


To  make  slaves  of  us,  closin'  of  the  gates 

To  make  us  knuckle  down.    And  you  said  'Come,' 

And  the  boys  followed  you,  and  here  they  are. 

And  many  of  'em,  if  I  sound  'em  right, 

Are  wonderin'  what  we're  here  for.     I'll  ask  Sam 

If  he's  in  favor  of  the  Open  Shop. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

We  formed  our  Union,  Wes,  when  we  were  slaves, 
Same  as  in  war  times  armies  are  called  out. 
But  when  the  war  is  over  they  go  back. 

WES  DICEY. 
'Go  back.' 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

We're  free  men  now. 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 

We've  no  foe  now 
Except  ourselves. 

WES  DICEY. 

All  of  which  means  you'll  vote 
In  favor  of  admittin'  every  man 
To  full  rights  here. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Look  here,  pard 

243 


The  Americans 


WES  DICEY. 
Are  you  Sam? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

If  it's  the  soldier  boys  you're  knocking  at, 
They  don't  intend  to  stay,  most  of  them  don't. 
But  as  I  think  they'll  be  invited  to. 

(Cheers) 
Didn't  they  leave  their  Union? 

A  MILITIAMAN. 
The  damned  dog. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

I  mean  to  vote,  Wes,  for  that  Living  Mill 
That  Mr.  Egerton  has  told  us  of. 
For  that's  the  thing,  or  something  like" that  thing, 
We've  worked  for  all  these  years.     And  now  it's 

come, 

A  place  where  we  can  work  and  be  free  men, 
Having  a  say  in  things,  as  Harvey  says, 
God  help  us  if  we  can't  get  on  as  friends. 

(Jim  King  takes  Dicey  aside,  where  Masters  joins 
them) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

(Coming  to  Bentley  and  the  militiamen) 
I  want  to  thank  you,  Bentley,  and  you  men, 
I  want  to  thank  you  for  the  help  you've  been. 
You've  played  the  noblest  part  I  ever  knew. 
244 


The  Americans 


BUCK  BENTLEY. 
We  followed  you. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

No.    We  have  interests  here, 
The  rest  of  us  have  interests  here;  we've  homes 
And  families,  and  the  fight  was  ours.    But  you, 
You'd  never  seen  a  one  of  us  before. 
And  you  came  here  honorable  men,  and  now 
You're  traitors  through  the   State,   and  mutineers. 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 
It's  all  right. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Yes,  indeed,  it  is  all  right. 

FIFTH  MILITIAMAN. 
They'll  be  more,  too. 

SIXTH  MILITIAMAN. 

He'll  never  call  them  out. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

You've  helped  to  make  the  history  of  this  land, 
And  there's  not  one  of  you  will  not  be  known 
And  honored  for  it. 

A  MILITIAMAN. 

Half  as  much  as  you. 

245 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 
And  now  a  little  toast  before  you  go. 

(Shakes  hands  with  them) 
Bentley,  Kelley,  Stamper,  and  you  all, 
Sam,  and  you,  Harvey,  Chris,  and  Mike,  and  Wes, 
You'll  join  us,  you  and  Jim  and  Rome? 

(The  three  remain  aside  talking  together) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

And  you, 

And  you  back  there,  you  of  the  Living  Mill — 
For  all  time,  shall  we  say  it? 

SUBDUED  VOICES. 
For  all  time. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

(With  a  swift  glance  toward  Dicey,  King  and 

Masters) 
And  give  our  lives,  if  need  be,  for  this  thing? 

SUBDUED  VOICES. 

And  give  our  lives,  if  need  be,  for  this  thing. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
This  is  a  glorious  day. 

MILITIAMEN. 

(Leaving) 
So  long!    So  long! 

246 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 

Wherever  men  get  free  they'll  think  of  us. 

WORKMEN. 

So  long!    So  long! 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 

And  there  was  something  else. 
The  General  came  while  you  were  speaking. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
Ah! 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 

Something  about  some  bugles  you  said  get 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Yes,  I  forgot.     I  meant  to  show  you  these 
That  a  Committee  brought  this  afternoon. 

(Takes  a  paper  from  his  pocket} 
Read  them  in  the  meeting,  Harvey. 

CRIES. 

Read  them  now! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Some  resolutions  of  the  citizens, 

Who  are  glad  we've  gone  on  peaceably  to  work. 

And  if  at  any  time  we  need  their  help 

247 


The  Americans 


SAM  WILLIAMS. 

( Taking  a  bugle  and  holding  it  up  to  the  crowd} 
The  citizens  say  blow  these  if  we  need  help! 
Because  we've  gone  on  peaceably  to  work. 

(Cheers) 
It's  work,  you  see,  that  wins,  comrades. 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 
That's  right. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

I  trust,  though,  that  they'll  never  need  to  blow. 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 

'Twill  set  the  land  on  fire  if  they  do. 

A  WORKMAN. 

The  workingmen  throughout  the  State  will  near. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
They'll  blow  in  relay,  pards,  from  sea  to  sea. 

(Harry  Egerton  stands  and  watches  the  militia- 
men depart.  As  Bentley  goes  down  the  stairs 
he  turns  and  looks  at  Harry  Egerton,  who  lifts 
his  hand  to  his  head  in  a  sort  of  military 
salute) 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 

That's  what   they  say   about  us,  Wes,  you   know 
248 


The  Americans 


That  when  the  thing  we've  fought  is  taken  away 
We'll  fight  among  ourselves. 

WES  DICEY. 

(To  Harry  Egerton) 

I  ain't  a  man, 

And  never  have  been  one,  to  set  my  views 
Against  the  boys'  views.     If  they're  satisfied 
And  think  the  new  way's  better  than  the  old, 
And  if  they'll  vote  for  it,  Wes  and  his  friends 
Will  have  no  grouch. 

SEVERAL. 

That's  all  right. 

A  VOICE. 

Then  come  on. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

To  get  along  together,  as  Sam  says, 
That's  what  we  seek,  my   friend.     The  rest  will 
come. 

WES  DICEY. 

It's  for  the  boys  I  took  the  stand  I  did. 

(The  workmen  go   back  into   the  mill.     Harry 
Egerton  watches  Dicey  until  he  is  lost  among 
the  men  that  pass  out  rear) 
249 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(Who  has  been  watching  him) 
Partner. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

(Who  has  started  to  follow  the  men) 
What  is  it,  Harvey? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
What's  this  mean? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

We  cannot  be  too  patient  with  these  men. 
It's  a  free  mill  we're  trying  to  build,  Harvey. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
'Tain't  that  I  mean. 

(Takes  the  will  from  his  pocket) 

Why  did  you  give  me  this? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
As  a  precaution,  Harvey. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(To  Jim  King,  who   lingers  about  beyond  the 

railing) 
We'll  be  there. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

If  anything  should  happen  to  me,  you  know, 
My  father  would  inherit  everything. 
250 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Yes. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

And  God  meant  the  mine  for  other  things. 
And  as  administrators  you  and  Sam 
And  Buck  I  knew  would  carry  on  the  work. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

But  why  just  now?    Come  on  and  tell  me,  partner. 

There's  something  up.  You  ain't  been  like  your- 
self. 

There's  something  on  your  heart.  What  is  it, 
partner? 

It  ain't  the  faction? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
No. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

About  the  mine — 
That  lie  they  told  is  eating  in  your  heart. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Have  I  dene  anything  that  you  know,  Harvey, 
That  could  have  wronged  the  men  or  any  of  them? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
You  wronged  them?    What  you  mean? 
251 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 
In  any  way? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Why  they'd  die  for  you,  partner.    What  you  mean  ? 

ARRY  EGERTON. 

Come  here  to-night  when  we  can  be  alone. 
There  are  some  things  I  want  to  tell  you,  Harvey, 
That  you  and  Sam  and  Buck  must  carry  out. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(Looks  at  him  a  long  while,  tfyen  lays  his  hands 

upon  his  shoulders) 

We're  on  the  eve  of  seeing  things  come  true 
And  there  ain't  nothing  that  can  stop  it,  partner. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

I  don't  know  what  I'd  do  without  you,  Harvey. 
(They  go  back  through  the  gate  in  the  railing 
and  out  through  the  great  door,  left,  whence 
the  crowd  has  passed.  Rome  Masters  comes 
furtively  up  the  stairs  and  looks  about.  He 
then  comes  past  the  sash  to  the  door,  forward 
left,  and  begins  to  pull  off  the  strip  that  is 
nailed  across  it.  He  has  just  loosened  it  when 
Jim  King  appears  upon  the  stairs  and  gives  a 
low  whistle.  Rome  Masters  quickly  joins  him 
and  together  they  hurry  back  through  the  mill 
252 


The  Americans 


and  out  the  great  door,  left.  A  moment  later 
the  First  Guard  comes  up  the  stairs,  followed 
by  Ralph  Ardsley  and  Bishop  Hardbrooke) 

FIRST  GUARD. 
I'll  find  him. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 
If  you  please. 

(  The  Guard  goes  back  through  the  mill) 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

I  don't  like  this. 
The  atmosphere's  too  charged  with  victory. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

I  don't  believe  they  even  know  it's  cold. 

(Looks  about) 

It's  wonderful  the  way  he's  handled  things. 
It's  that,  I  think,  as  much  as  anything 
That's  won  the  confidence  of  the  citizens. 
I  was  just  sure  they'd  have  a  riot  here. 

(He  gets  up  on  one  of  the  stools  before  the  desk 
and  takes  from  his  overcoat  pocket  a  newspaper 
which  he  spreads  out  before  him) 
I've  thought  about  it,  Bishop ;  don't  you  think 
That  that  injunction  Egerton  got  out 
Against  the  mine,  considering  everything, 
The  public  feeling — if  he  has  good  grounds 
253 


The  Americans 


For  claiming  that  his  own  men  found  the  mine — 
Aside  from  the  reflection  on  his  son — 
A  tactical  mistake,  don't  you  think  so  ? 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 
Best  not  allude  to  that. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
I  think  so  too. 

(He  reads  the  paper.  The  Bishop  stands  listen- 
ing to  the  indistinct  noises  that  come  from  the 
crowd  outside) 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

And  yet  you  can't  blame  Jergens  very  much. 
Something  has  got  to  happen  pretty  soon. 
Amalgamated's  off  again,  I  see. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

Who  is  this  Harvey  Anderson? 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

He's  the  rough 

That  kept  the  men  from  going  back  that  day. 
Drew  his  revolver.    Big  man  here  now.    You  see 
He'd  been  out  on  the  mountains  with  a  cast, 
One  of  the  men  the  Company  had  out. 
So  it's  quite  possible,  as  Jergens  claims, 
That  Anderson  found  the  mine.     For  gold  these 
days — 

254 


The  Americans 


To  get  possession  of  a  mine  like  that — 
Men  have  been  killed  for  less. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 
But  Harry 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

That, 
That's  what  I  can't  get  down  me,  his  collusion— 

(Cheers  outside) 

It's  probably  Anderson  haranguing  them. 
I  don't  myself  believe  that  Harry'd  do  it. 

(Tremendous  cheering) 
There's  certainly  enthusiasm  there. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

What  is  it,  Editor  Ardsley? 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
I  don't  know. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 
What's  it  all  mean?    What's  underneath  it  all? 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

We're  neither  of  us,  Bishop,  what  we  were. 
We've  lost  our  power.    Something's  happening 
That  we  don't  understand. 
(A  pause) 

255 


The  Americans 


And  done  by  men 

That  live  right  here  and  walk  the  streets  and  talk, 
Buy  vegetables  and  pass  the  time  of  day. 
I  tell  you,  Bishop  Hardbrooke,  you  can't  tell. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 
(Half  to  himself) 
As  though  they  had  the  Ark  of  the  Covenant. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

If  any  one  had  said  to  me  last  week 

That  that  despondent  crowd  of  shabby  men, 

After  six  weeks  of  battle  against  odds, 

And  beaten  into  silence,  starved  and  cold, 

Had  in  them  the  capacity  for  this — 

Who  was  it  said  we're  always  in  a  flux, 

That  nothing's  fixed?    We  don't  know  anything. 

It's  like  a  case  of  type;  to-day  it  spells 

Egerton  and  to-morrow  M-o-b. 

To  think  of  Donald  Egerton  at  bay! 

Egad! 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

These  shouts  once  rose  about  the 

Church, 
But  somehow  we  don't  hear  them  any  more. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

Don't  think   for  a  moment,   Bishop,    that   you're 
alone. 

256 


The  Americans 


We  never  had  the  tumult  and  the  shout 
That  you  had  in  old  days,  but  it's  all  the  same. 
The  Tower  of  the  Press'!     It  makes  me  laugh. 
If  I  could  find  a  little  farm  somewhere, 
I'd  sell  my  stock  to  Egerton  and  get  out 
And  let  the  world  go  hang.    I'm  tired  of  it. 

(Cheers  outside) 

Yes,  there's  a  ring  about  it  you  don't  hear 
Even  in  Conventions. 

(The  Guard  enters  the  mill,  back  left,  and  comes 
through  the  gate  in  the  railing) 

GUARD. 

In  a  moment. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 
Thank  you. 

( The  Guard  goes  out  down  the  stairs) 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

What's  your  opinion  of  the  trouble,  Bishop? 

(To  himself) 
To  think  of  Donald  Egerton  at  bay! 

BISHOP  HARDBROQKE. 

We've  had  the  matter  up  in  Conference 
Several  times. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
Yes. 

257 


The  Americans 


BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

But  I  somehow  feel 

We  don't  get  hold  of  it.    The  lower  classes — 
They're  going  off.     I  don't  believe  it's  Christ. 
You  say  they're  leaving  you;  and  General  Chad- 
bourne — 
Two  thirds,  I  think  you  said,  of  his  command. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

Facing  State's  prison,  too. 

(Cheers  outside.     The  two  men  remain  silent) 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

And  Egerton — 

They  certainly  have  left  him.     I  thought  last  night 
As  I  sat  looking  up  toward  that  new  home — 

(Cheers  outside) 

They'll  never  light  it  up  again  that  way, 
The  way  it  was  that  day.     Did  you  ever  see 
Anything  to  equal  that  reception  hall? 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

What's  in  the  boy  that  these  men  follow  him, 
And  all  his  life  so  quiet,  almost  timid  ? 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

'What  go  ye  out  into  the  wilderness  for  to  see?' 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

Yes,  if  his  cause  were  better. 
258 


The  Americans 


RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
There  you  are. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

But  this  audacious,  this  deliberate 
Stealing — though  I  hate  to  use  the  word — 
This  seizing  of  the  mill 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

Here  he  comes  now. 
(He  gets  down  from  the  stool) 
You  do  the  talking,  Bishop,  the  heavy  part. 
(Harry  Egerton  enters) 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 
Harry. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
Bishop  Hardbrooke 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

You  don't  seem 
To  mind  the  cold  or  anything  down  here. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
We  have  been  busy 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

I  should  think  so.    Yes 
259 


The  Americans 


It's  wonderful  the  way  you've  plunged  right  in 
To  business. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
Yes. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

Things  going  pretty  well? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
Yes. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
I'm  glad. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
You  sent  for  me. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
Yes. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

Harry, 

We've  come  to  see  if  something  can't  be  done 
To  end  this  controversy  and  bring  peace, 
An  honorable  peace  to  all  concerned. 
A  permanent  state  of  strife  is  far  from  pleasant. 
There's  nothing  sadder  in  the  life  of  man 
Than  to  see  towns  disrupted,  classes  arrayed 
260 


The  Americans 


Against  each  other,  to  say  nothing,  Harry, 
Of  this  far  dearer  tie  that's  straining  here, 
That  pains  us  all  far  more  than  we  can  tell. 
We've  often  had  these  troubles  in  the  Church, 
Mostly  in  the  past,  of  course,  men  differing 
Upon  some  point  of  doctrine  or  government. 
And  my  experience  is  that  at  the  bottom 
There's  something  that  at  first  was  overlooked, 
Then,  in  the  strife  that  followed,  overwhelmed. 
There's   common   ground,   there  must   be   in   these 

things. 

Look  at  the  world ;  we  pass  along  the  street. 
We  don't  confront  each  other  and  block  the  way. 
Each  yields  a  bit  and  so  we  all  pass  on. 
And  in  relationships  it  must  be  the  same. 
We're  one,  my  brother. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

Like  our  fingers  here. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

And  when  we're  not,  when  interests  seem  to  clash, 
It's  just  as  sure  as  Death  or  anything 
Some  law  of  God  is  being  tampered  with. 
And  so  we  thought  we'd  cc 


RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
And  now's  the  time. 

261 


The  Americans 


BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

For,  as  you  know,  in  town  the  feeling's  growing 
That  there's  a  sword  impending  over  us 
Which   the  least  breath  will  bring  down  on  our 
heads. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

And  not  in  the  town  alone,  but  the  whole  State — 
They  seem  to  have  their  eyes  upon  us  here. 
You've  seen  the  papers  how  the  strikes  are  spreading. 
The  mills  at  Upton  and  the  plant  at  Sawyer, 
And   down   the    State   there's   Smith   and    Balding 

Brothers, 

Heacox  and  Knight,  twelve  hundred  men  gone  out, 
Demanding  unconditionally  the  mills. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

Think  of  it,  Harry,  think  of  what  this  means ! 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

Not  satisfied  with  wages  any  more. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
Pardon  me. 

(Walks  rear  and  listens) 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

He  doesn't  listen  to  what  I  say. 
263 


The  Americans 


RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

Not  that  you  are  to  blame  for  it,  we  don't  say  that. 

But  probably  without  your  knowing  it 

A  fire  or  something's  going  out  of  you 

That's  kindling  this  industrial  upheaval; 

For  it's  your  name  they've  made  the  war-cry,  Harry. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

He  even  smiled  when  you  spoke  of  the  mills 
Closing. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

I  don't  think  he  meant  it  so. 
His  heart's  out  there,  though,  that's  as  plain  as  day. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

Harry,  if  these  shouts  mean  a  final  step, 
A  closing  up  of  things  which  if  once  closed 
Will  render  of  no  use  any  labor  of  ours, 
I  beg  of  you  to  call  this  meeting  off, 
At  least  until  we  see  what  we  can  do. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

Postpone  it,  Harry,  say  till  Monday  morning. 
You  know  yourself  how  dangerous  it  is 
To  wake  men's  hopes  to  a  wild  dream  of  power. 
They're  never  afterwards  content  with  less 
Than  that  wild  something  that  could  never  be. 
263 


The  Americans 


BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

Yes,  brother,  let  the  Lord's  day  with  its  peace 
Breathe  on  this  quarrel.    Why  do  you  say  too  late? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

{Who  has  come  forward) 
Because  it's  up  there,  Bishop,  it's  up  there 
Above  mere  bread. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

What  does  he  mean  by  that? 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

I  trust,  my  brother,  that  it  is  up  there. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

We  don't  just  see  what  it  is  you  are  trying  to  do. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
The  statement  I  gave  out  last  Saturday 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

That  was  a  week  ago. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
Yes. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

And  since  then 
264 


The  Americans 


Reports  have  come  out  that  there's  a  move  on  foot 
To  organize — I  know  not  what  to  call  it 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

A  Commonwealth  of  Workers. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 
Then  it's  true! 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

Your  purpose  then  is  to  retain  the  mill  ? 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 
Purchase  it? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

I  don't  know.    We'll  do  what's  fair. 
We've  had  to  think  first  of  supplying  bread. 
That's  left  but  little  time  for  other  things. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

But  if  the  Company  shouldn't  choose  to  sell? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
That  is  with  them. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

You  mean  you'll  still  hold  on? 
265 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 

That  will  be  my  advice,  yes. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
But  the  Law. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 
'Thou  shalt  not  steal.' 

(Harry  Egerton  walks  rear  and  listens) 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

Doesn't  that  beat  the  world! 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

It's  his  association  with  these  roughs. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY.  . 

And  they'll  never  dare  lay  hands  upon  them,  Bishop. 
I  tell  you  the  Commonwealth's  afraid  to  move. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

Has  God  no  place  in  business,  my  young  brother? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
(Returning) 

Yes,  Bishop  Hardbrooke,  and  it's  very  strange 
You've  never  thought  of  that  until  to-day. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

A  hidden  meaning  couched  in  that,  I  think. 
266 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTOX. 

This  is  the  first  time  you've  been  in  this  mill 
Or  near  these  workingmen  in  all  these  years. 
And  now  you  come  to  plead  my  father's  cause. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 
I  come  for  peace. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Then  why  not  weeks  ago 
When  there  was  strife?    You  heard  the  cry  of  the 

poor 

For  six  weeks,  Bishop,  and  you  never  came. 
Why  wait  until  the  starving  time  is  past? 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

I've  rather  arduous  duties,  my  young  brother. 
Besides   my    Church    work   there    are    Boards  and 

Boards 

And  meetings  of  this  Charity  and  that 
That  you  in  business  know  but  little  of. 
My  interest  in  the  poor  is  not  unknown. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

You've  been  in  father's  confidence  for  years. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 
I'm  proud  to  say  I  have. 
267 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 

There's  seldom  passed 
A  Sunday  that  he's  not  been  in  his  pew. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 
A  creditable  record. 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
I  should  say. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

And  one  that  any  son  might  emulate 
With  profit,  I  should  think. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

It's  very  strange 
My  father  doesn't  know  some  things  are  wrong. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

You  mean  he  doesn't  see  things  as  you  do. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Yes,  all  my  life  I've  wondered  when  I've  seen 
Check  after  check  go  out  with  father's  name 
To  help  along  some  Mission  over  sea 
Or  roof  some  rising  Charity  at  home, 
I've  often  wondered  that  he's  never  seen 
Those  little  shacks  upon  the  hill  out  there 
Nor  heard  the  cry  of  widows  from  these  saws. 
268 


The  Americans 


BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

I  would  suggest,  my  brother,  that  we  leave 
The  deeper  things  of  God  for  quiet  times 
And  turn  our  minds  to  something  nearer  home. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

I  know  of  nothing  nearer  home  than  this, 
The  cry  of  men  for  justice  at  our  doors. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

Suppose  we  get  the  Company  to  agree 
To  let  bygones  be  bygones  with  the  men, 
And  to  restore  conditions  as  they  were 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

In  other  words  to  meet  the  men's  demands. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

And  put  the  guards  they  ask  about  the  saws. 
That  would  remove  the  causes,  would  it  not, 
Of  the  misunderstanding? 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
Every  one. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

Would  there  be  any  valid  reason  then 

Why  Peace  should  not  return  and  all  be  friends 

As  formerly? 

269 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 

For  weeks  they  waited  for  it. 
(Listens  back) 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

What's    time   to    do    with    right    and    wrong,    my 
brother  ? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

But  men  in  misery  often  have  a  vision 
Beyond  the  eye  of  prosperous  days  to  see. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

If  it  was  fair  last  week,  then  why  not  now? 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

They're  building  something  fairer. 
(Walks  back) 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
It's  no  use. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

On  what  foundations,  Harry?    All  about 
I  see  the  wreck  and  ruin  of  our  land ; 

Her  altars  down,  her  sacred  institutions 

(Cheering  outside) 

Harry,  I  beg  of  you  to  stop  and  think 
What  it  has  cost,  this  Law  that  you  defy 
270 


The  Americans 


And  cast  before  the  swine  of  riotous  feet. 

{Continuous  cheering) 
I  appeal  to  you,  my  brother 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Bishop  Hardbrooke 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

In  the  name  of  everything  that  you  hold  dear 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

There's  nothing  you  could  say  that  could  persuade 


BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

Think  of  your  country  plunged  in  civil  war! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

To  stay  even  with  a  word  what's  rising  there. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

Think  of  your  mother,  think  of  how  she  feels 
Sitting 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
Here's  Anderson ! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
What  is  it,  Harvey? 

271 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(Hurrying  in) 

Well,  President  of  Free  Mill  Number  One 
And  many  more  hereafter! 

( Goes  quickly  left  and,  seizing  the  rope,  pulls  the 
flag  up  on  the  pole) 

Up  the  mast, 
My  beauty!    Now  you'll  hear  'em  raise  the  roof. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
And  Dicey ? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Moved  to  make  it  unanimous. 
No  opposition. 

(Tremendous  cheering  outside) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(Comes  right    and   takes   Harry    Egerton's    two 

hands  in  his) 
Well,  boy? 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 
It's  no  use,  Bishop. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

You've  dreamed  it  and  it's  a  fact  now,  partner. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
Yes. 

272 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

The  years  will  multiply  'em. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
Hear!    Just  hear! 
(Prolonged  cheering) 

RALPH  ARDSLEY. 

Let's  leave  'em  and  let  'em  stew  in  their  own  juice. 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
The  Living  Mill! 
(A  volley  of  shots) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

There  goes  the  boys'  salute! 

(Seizes  Harry  Egerton  by  the  shoulders  and  lifts 

him  off  his  feet) 

Up  with  you,  up  into  the  skies  with  you ! 
We've  lived  to  see  a  day  will  live  forever. 
And  you  come  right  on  out  and  make  your  speech. 
(Hurries  back  through  the  mill) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

I'll  be  there  shortly,  Harvey. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 

I  suppose 

There's  no  use  in  our  talking  any  more. 
273 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTO.N. 
I'm  sorry,  Bishop. 

BISHOP  HARDBROOKE. 
Then — Good-bye. 

HARRY  EGERTOJST. 
Good-bye. 

(  The  Bishop  and  Ardsley  go  out  down  the  stairs. 
Harry  Egerton  starts  back  toward  the  gate) 

JIM  KING. 

(Suddenly  appears  just  beyond  the  railing) 
There  was  a  call  just  now  'fore  you  came  in. 
I  think  it  was  your  mother. 

(Harry  Egerton  turns  back  to  the  desk  and  takes 
up  the  telephone.  Jim  King  vanishes  through 
the  great  door,  left) 

HARRY  EGERTOJST. 

Forty-nine 

Grand  View,  please.    Yes. 
(A  pause) 

Mother?     I  knew  your  voice. 
You  called  me  up,  one  of  the  men  said.    No? 

(A  pause) 
Or  some  one  else. 
(A  pause) 

Yes,  mother,  very  well. 
274 


The  Americans 


You're  going  to  the  city? 

(A  pause) 

That  was  it. 
I  thought  perhaps  you  had  called  me  up  to  ask. 

(A  pause) 
Four  or  five  hundred  pounds. 

(A  pause) 

Mixed,  I  should  say. 
And  such  toys  as  you  think  children  would  like. 

(A  pause) 

0  you  know  more  about  such  things  than  I. 
(A  pause) 

Yes. 

(A  pause) 

Mother,  while  I  think  of  it,  has  father 
Had  any  trouble  with  Jergens? 
(A  pause) 

Ah,  I'm  glad. 

1  overheard  him  talking  with  some  men 

The  other  night,  and  thought  from  what  he  said 
It  might  be  father  they  were  talking  of. 

(A  pause.  The  door,  forward  left,  opens  slowly 
and  Rome  Masters  comes  stealthily  in  with  a 
bar  of  iron  in  his  hand,  and  moves  toward 
Harry  Egerton,  whose  back  is  to  him) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

I'm  very  glad.   You  might  ask  father  though. 
(Cheering  outside) 

275 


The  Americans 


I'll  have  some  news  for  you  when  you  return. 

(A  pause) 
Here  in  the  mill.  And  I'll  be  Santa  Claus. 

(A  pause) 
That  will  be  beautiful. 

(A  pause) 

And,  mother 

(Masters  strikes  him) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
Ah! 

(He  sinks  to  the  floor.  Masters,  iron  in  hand, 
flees  down  the  stairs.  The  cheering  outside 
continues.  Then,  as  the  noise  subsides,  there  is 
heard  a  steady  buzzing  of  the  telephone  as 
though  some  one  were  trying  to  get  connec- 
tion) 


276 


The  Americans 


ACT  V 

CHRISTMAS    EVE 

Scene:  Inside  the  large  room  of  a  newly  built  board 
cabin  up  at  the  mine.  Centre,  rear,  the  open  mouth 
of  the  tunnel,  with  the  wall  resting  upon  the  rocks 
above.  Left,  in  this  same  wall,  near  the  corner,  a  door 
opening  outside.  Right,  near  the  other  corner,  about 
four  feet  up  from  the  floor,  a  small  oblong  window 
through  which  one  sees  the  snow  lying  thick  upon  the 
mountains,  and  beyond  the  snow  the  dark  of  the  sky 
with  the  winter  stars  shining  brightly.  In  the  right 
wall,  well  back,  a  door  opens  into  a  bedroom.  Centre, 
in  the  opposite  wall,  a  second  door  opens  into  a  sort 
of  woodshed.  Left,  a  little  way  to  the  rear  from  the 
centre  of  the  room,  a  heavy  iron  stove  with  chairs 
standing  about.  A  woodbox  is  over  near  the  wall,  left. 
Fonuard  right,  a  table  with  a  bugle  lying  upon  two  or 
three  sheets  of  loose  paper,  and,  farther  over,  a  heap  of 
ore  samples  in  which,  with  the  light  of  the  near-by 
lamp  falling  upon  them,  the  gold  is  plainly  visible. 

Harvey  Anderson,  his  hat  pulled  low  over  his  eyes, 
sits  with  his  back  to  the  bedroom,  staring  at  the  stove. 
The  only  motion  discernible  is  an  occasional  pressing 
of  the  lip  when  he  bites  his  moustache.  Later,  Mrs. 
Egerton,  careworn  and  evidently  in  deep  distress,  en- 
277 


The  Americans 


ters  from  the  bedroom  and  starts  to  say  something  to 
Harvey  Anderson,  but  decides  not  to.     Instead  she 
goes  to  the  window  and  stands  looking  out  as  though 
she  were  anxiously  waiting  for  some  one. 
Time:     Christmas  Eve. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

(In  a  low  voice) 

It's  after  midnight,  for  the  lights  are  out 
Down  in  the  town.    It  must  be  after  one. 

(Speaks  back  as  though  into  the  bedroom) 
You   think   the   guard   would   let  him  come   right 
through  ? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Yes,  mother. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

I  didn't  mean  to  wake  you,  Harvey. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
I  ain't  been  sleeping. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

But  it  seems  so  long. 

(Turns  again  to  the  window) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

The  snow's  so  deep  upon  the  mountains,  mother. 
278 


The  Americans 


And  Sam  and  Chris — I  know  they'd  hurry  on — 
They  ain't  come  either. 

NURSE. 

(Entering  from  the  bedroom) 
It's  stopped  snowing  now. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

It's  getting  colder.     How's  he  seem  to  be? 

NURSE. 

There's  very  little  change.    What  time  is  it  ? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(Looks  at  his  watch) 
Going  on  half  past  three. 
(They  look  at  one  another) 

NURSE. 

Don't  think  such  things. 

(Anderson  goes  to  the  woodbox  and  looks  in) 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

(At  the  window,  to  herself) 
If  I  only  knew!    If  I  only  knew  he'd  come! 

NURSE. 

(As  Anderson  goes  into  the  woodshed) 
He  may  have  telegraphed  for  specialists. 
279 


The  Americans 


(She   glances    toward   Mrs.   Egerton,   then   goes 
quietly  to  the  door,  rear  left,  and  looks  out) 

NURSE. 

(Comes  back) 
I  wish  that  there  was  something  that  I  could  do. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
You  made  it  plain  that  he  must  come  at  once? 

NURSE. 

Yes,  Mrs.  Egerton.    I  told  the  truth. 
Some  think  it's  better  to  deceive.    I  don't. 
And  I  find  that  people  thank  you  in  the  end. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

And  they've  been  gone  since  nine. 

NURSE. 

Lie  down  a  while, 
Won't  you?    I  wish  you  would. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

Isn't  that  some  one? 

NURSE. 

(Goes  to  the  window) 
It's  Mr.  Bentley  with  the  guard,  I  think. 
280 


The  Americans 


(Mrs.  Egerton    leaves    the  window    and  walks 
about  the  room) 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

(Half  to  herself) 

The  stars  are  so  low  down,  so  beautiful ; 
And  the  world  so  full  of  joy.    Isn't  it  strange? 
To-day  we're  here  and  to-morrow  somewheres  else. 
(She  stops  by  the  bedroom  door  and  stands  look- 
ing in) 

NURSE. 

He's  so  your  boy. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
Yes,  yes. 

NURSE. 

And  he  loves  you  so. 

It's  always  'mother'  when  he  speaks  at  all; 
You  and  the  mill. 
(A  pause) 

And  then  you'll  always  know 
There's  never  been  a  man  in  Foreston 
Been  loved  as  he  has  been. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

But  he's  so  young ! 

And  his  work — He'd  just  begun.    So  little  chance! 
281 


The  Americans 


NURSE. 

I've  nursed  so  many  cases  of  old  men, 
And  men  in  prosperous  circumstances,  too, 
Who've  had  no  friends  at  all,  just  relatives. 
(Mrs.  Egerton  walks  about) 

NURSE. 

And  friends  are  so  much  closer,  don't  you  think  ? 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

Has  he  never,  never  mentioned  Donald's  name 
In  his  delirium? 

NURSE. 

(Shakes  her  head) 

But  then  you  know 

Those  first  weeks  at  the  Hospital  were  a  blank, 
Or  almost  so.    And  then  when  he  came  to 
After  the  operation 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
Donald!    Donald! 

NURSE. 

I  being  a  stranger,  just  a  nurse,  you  know. 
In  delirium  of  course  it's  different. 
But  then  I'd  left  the  case. 

(Harvey    Anderson    enters    with    an    armful    of 
wood) 

282 


The  Americans 


NURSE. 

I  was  surprised 

When  I  got  word  from  Mr.  Anderson 
That  you  had  let  him — It's  so  far  up  here. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

He  wanted  to  so  much. 

NURSE. 

They  always  do. 
But  they  don't  always  know  what's  best  for  them. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

But  he  was  getting  on  so  well. 

NURSE. 
I  know. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

There  was  no  fever  till  four  days  ago. 

NURSE. 

(To  Mrs.  Efferton) 
When  I  got  here  he  was  quite  rational. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

And  talked  about  the  mine  here  and  the  mill. 
And  figured  out  the  timber  that  we'd  need 
For  next  year's  run.     I  don't  know  what  it  was. 
(Quietly  replenishes  the  fire) 
283 


The  Americans 


MRS.  EGERTON. 

(At  the  bedroom  door) 
He  hasn't  moved. 

NURSE. 

It  quite  exhausted  him. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

You  think  he  recognized  me? 

NURSE. 

I  don't  know. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(Who  has  come  to  the  table,  picks  up  one  of  the 

sheets  of  paper) 

And  he  was  planning  homes  here  for  the  men 
Upon  the  valley  land,  with  flowers  and  trees. 

NURSE. 

Wasn't  it  strange  that  he  should  hear  the  bells? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

I  hadn't  heard  them  till  he  spoke. 

NURSE. 
Nor  I. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

He  seemed  to  know  that  it  is  Christmas  Eve. 
284 


The  Americans 


MRS.  EGERTON. 

His  speaking  of  the  toys! 

NURSE. 

Lie  down  a  while. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

It's  all  right,  mother,  it's  all  right. 

NURSE. 

Won't  you? 
We'll  call  you  when  he  comes. 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 

(Entering  hurriedly  from  outside) 
Here  comes  a  light. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

(Collecting  herself) 

If  there's  anything,  Harvey,  anything  I  can  do 
To  help  the  work  along,  you'll  come  to  me. 
Promise  me  that.    And  you  must  keep  right  on. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Yes,  mother.     We  talked  of  that. 

(Mrs.  Egerton  kisses  him  and  goes  into  the  bed- 
room) 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 
How  is  he  now? 


The  Americans 


NURSE. 

About  the  same. 

(She  goes  to  the  window) 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 

You  didn't  think  he'd  come. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

He's  been  six  weeks,  almost.     But  that's  all  right. 
Is  the  Doctor  with  him? 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 
Yes. 

(Starts  for  the  door) 

I'll  tell  the  boys. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Then  come  back,  Buck. 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 
I  will. 

(He  goes  out.     Anderson  stands  staring  at  the 
door) 

NURSE. 

I'm  so,  so  glad. 

These  weeks  and  weeks It's  been  so  hard  to 

bear. 

You  see  when  Death  comes,  Mr.  Anderson — 
286 


The  Americans 


It  ought  to  be  a  lesson  to  us  all. 
You'll  stay,  of  course. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
I?    Sure. 

NURSE. 

He's  felt  so  hard, 
So  bitter  toward  you. 

(Buck  Bent  ley  enters  quickly.    Looks  from  Har- 
vey to  the  Nurse) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

What? 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 
It's  Sam  and  Chris. 

(Sam  Williams  and  Chris  Knudson  come  in  with 
a  lantern) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

See  anything  of  Egerton  coming  up? 
(The  men  show  surprise) 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 
They  sent  for  him. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 
Is  he  as  bad  as  that  ? 

287 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
He  hasn't  been  himself. 

(To  Bentley,  ivho  starts  out) 
Then  come  back. 

BUCK  BENTLEY. 
Yes. 

(Anderson  turns  and  shakes  his  head  at  the 
Nurse,  who  goes  into  the  bedroom,  closing  the 
door  after  her) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

He  spoke  of  both  of  you. 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 
Too  bad!  too  bad! 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

I  thought  you'd  like  to  be  here. 
( They  sit  silent  about  the  stove) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Colder. 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 
Yes. 

( They  are  silent) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Things  going  all  right,  Sam? 
(Sam  Williams  nods) 

288 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
And  in  the  camps? 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 

Hundred  and  fifty  men. 
(They  are  silent) 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

There's  a  report 
That  Masters  will  turn  State's  evidence. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Good  news. 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 

The  citizens  are  pressing  on  the  case. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
They'll  find  the  trail  leads  where  we  said. 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 
That's  sure. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

His  throwing  down  the  silver  don't  help  though. 
(They  are  silent) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

You  see   about   those  young  pines,   Chris.     With 
spring 

289 


The  Americans 


We'll  begin  setting  out  as  partner  wished, 
And  start  all  over  with  the  land  all  green. 
(They  are  silent) 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 

The  boys  will  be  so  sorry. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

I  don't  mind, 

Now  that  it  can't  be,  telling  you  of  a  plan 

(There  is  a  slight  noise  in  the  bedroom.  Ander- 
son turns  and  listens;  but  everything  becomes 
quiet  again) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Of  a  surprise  he  had  for  Christmas  day, 
For  all  of  us  and  the  families  of  the  men. 

NURSE. 

(Appears  at  the  door  and  calls  quickly) 
Harvey ! 

(Anderson  starts  for  the  bedroom.  Suddenly 
Harry  Egerton  appears  struggling  with  his 
mother  and  the  Nurse.  His  head  is  bandaged 
and  his  face  is  covered  with  a  six  weeks'  beard) 

HARRY  EGERTQN. 

No,  no!     See  there!  see  there!  see 
there ! 
290 


The  Americans 


They're  here  already! 

(A  shadowy  line  of  workmen  with  their  wives 
and  children  in  their  Sunday  clothes  comes  in 
left) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

(Shouting  right) 

In  the  dry-kiln,  Sam! 
And  fetch  the  other  barrel,  Harvey. 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
Harry! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

A  Merry  Christmas,  friends,  to  all  of  you! 
I'm  glad  you've  come! 
(Shaking  himself  free) 

It's  all  right,  it's  all  right! 
Candy,  candy,  candy,  children! 
(The  children  crowd  about  him) 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
Harry! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

Let   them  come!  let  them  come!     There!   there! 
there ! 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Partner! 

291 


The  Americans 


HARRY  EGERTON. 

(Laughing) 
Isn't  it  wonderful! 

MRS.  EGERTON. 
It's  mother,  Harry! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

And  here's  a  little  doll  and  here's  a  sled ! 

I  brought  them  down  over  the  chimney  tops! 

(Laughs.     A   little  boy  remains  after  the  other 
children  have  gone  back  to  their  parents) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
A  little  horn? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Partner! 

HARRY  EGERTON. 
What  golden  hair! 

(The  little  boy  returns  to  the  others) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

(Advancing  and  shaking  hands  with  the  men  and 

women,  who  file  by  him  and  pass  out  rear) 
Next  year,  my  friends,  if  everything  goes  well, 
We'll  have  some  homes  to  hang  up  on  the  tree 
With  big  yards  where  the  little  ones  can  play. 
292 


The  Americans 


But  this  is  children's  day. 

(Last  in  the  line  comes  a  figure  in  the  garb  of  a 
workman,  but  with  the  tender,  bearded  face  of 
the  Christ} 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

(Looking  at  his  brow) 
Have  you  been  hurt? 

(The  figure  holds  out  both  hands  to  him) 

HARRY  EGERTON. 

(At  first  wildly,  but  with  growing  calmness) 
Harvey!     Buck!     Mother! 

( The  figure  looks  back  one  moment,  then  van- 
ishes. Harry  Egerton  is  seen  falling  into  the 
arms  of  Harvey  Anderson,  who  carries  him 
into  the  bedroom.  His  mother  and  the  Nurse 
follow.  Sam  Williams  and  Chris  Knudson 
stand  staring  across  at  the  door) 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

Our  leader's  gone,  Chris. 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 
Yes,  I  fear  so. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(Coming  in  and  closing  the  bedroom  door  after 

him ) 
Partner's  gone. 

293 


The  Americans 


A  GUARD. 

{Pushing  open  the  outside  door) 
Egerton's  come. 

(Donald  Egerton  enters,  followed  by  the  Doctor 
and  two  strange  men,  apparently  surgeons,  one 
of  them  carrying  an  instrument  case.  Egerton 
glances  about  and  instinctively  locates  the  bed- 
room, and  at  once  goes  toward  it) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(To  the  Doctor) 
Too  late. 

DOCTOR. 
Dead! 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
Just  this  moment. 

VOICE  OF  MRS.  EGERTON. 

(As  Egerton  opens  the  bedroom  door) 
Donald !    Donald ! 

(The  Doctor  follows  Egerton  into  the  bedroom) 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 

(Looking  toward  the  door  that  the  Doctor  has 

shut) 

Peace  and  good  will  on  earth. 
294 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
He  stood  for  that. 

(They  stand  silent  about  the  stove.  Anderson 
picks  up  two  chairs,  which  he  takes  over  to  the 
two  strangers,  who  are  standing  by  the  table) 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 

There's  things  about  us  here  that  we  don't  see. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

(Looking  toward  the  bedroom) 
I'm  sorry — for  his  sake. 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 
What  will  we  do? 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

You'll  not  desert  us,  comrade,  now  he's  gone. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

'For  all  time  ;  shall  we  say  it?' 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 
That  last  day. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

'And  give  our  lives,  if  need  be?' 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 
He  gave  his. 

{Takes  up  the  lantern) 
.295 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

He  hasn't  left  the  Cause,  Sam. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 
True. 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 

That's  true; 
He  hasn't  left  the  Cause. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Here  just  last  week, 
Sitting  about  the  table,  planning  things, 
'The  Cause  will  be  here,  Harvey,  when  we're  gone, 
A  beautiful  river  flowing  through  the  land.' 

CHRIS  KNUDSON. 
There  was  the  noblest  boy  this  land's  brought  forth. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
And  we  must  make  it  wider,  Sam. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 
Yes,  yes. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Till  the  whole  land  is  free.    That's  our  work  now. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 

Yes,  we  must  keep  right  on. 
296 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

That  was  his  wish, 

That  we  should  keep  right  on ;  and  his  mother's,  too. 
Tell  the  boys  that. 

SAM  WILLIAMS. 
We  will. 

CHRIS  KNUDSOJNT. 

There  ought  to  be 
A  public  funeral  so  the  men  could  march. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

I'll  speak  to  Mr.  Egerton. 

FIRST  STRANGER. 

(Indicating  Anderson) 
That's  him. 

(The  two  workmen  go  out) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Stop  by  the  cabins  and  tell  Buck.    Good-night. 
(He  shuts  the  door  and  walks  about,  stopping  oc- 
casionally by  the  stove,  absorbed  in  thought) 

SECOND  STRANGER. 

He'll  hardly  use  us  now. 

FIRST  STRANGER. 
Probably  not. 

(They  take  up  pieces  of  the  ore) 
297 


The  Americans 


FIRST  STRANGER. 

(To  Anderson,  u'ho  is  walking  about} 
How  much  does  this  assay? 

SECOND  STRANGER. 
He  didn't  hear  you. 

EGERTON. 

(Enters  with   the  Doctor  and  speaks  with   him 

aside) 
Drive  down  a  mile  or  so  and  wait  for  me. 

(Mrs.  Egerton  and  the  Nurse  come  in.    Both  are 
dressed  for  travelling') 

MRS.  EGERTON. 

(Walks   toward  the    outer   door,   then   suddenly 

turns) 

O  Donald,  Donald,  this  is  Christmas  Eve! 
Think  of  this  night  in  years  gone  by! 

EGERTON. 

(Tenderly) 
Mary! 

NURSE. 

'Xhy  will  be  done.' 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
It's  all  right,  mother. 

298 


The  Americans 


MRS.  EGERTON. 
Harvey! 

(She  embraces  him  and  goes  out  with  the  Nurse) 

EGERTON. 

(To  the  Doctor) 
And  you'll  attend  to  everything? 

DOCTOR. 

Yes,  Colonel. 

(The  Doctor  goes  out.  Egerton  shuts  the  door 
and  stands  for  a  moment  apparently  waiting 
till  those  who  have  just  left  get  farther  from 
the  cabin.  He  then  starts  pacing  to  and  fro  as 
though  he  were  undecided  what  to  do.  As  he 
walks  left  toward  Harvey  Anderson  his  brow 
darkens.  But  as  he  turns  right  and  draws  near 
the  bedroom  the  hard  lines  of  his  face  relax. 
It  is  clear  that  a  terrible  struggle  is  going  on 
within  him) 

EGERTON. 

(To  Harvey  Anderson)  ( 

You  here  alone? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Yes,  Mr.  Egerton. 

But  that  don't  matter  if  there's  anything 

(Egerton  stands  for  a  moment,  then  resumes  his 
walk) 

299 


The  Americans 


HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Is  there  something  I  can  do? 

EGERTON. 

(Stopping  midzuay  between  the  bedroom  and  An- 
derson, to  the  strangers} 
What  do  you  say? 

FIRST  STRANGER. 

We'll  do  the  best  we  can. 

(  The  Second  Stranger  removes  his  overcoat.  The 
First  lifts  the  instrument  case  upon  the  table 
and  begins  to  open  it.  Egerton  walks  toward 
the  bedroom) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
(Following  him) 

I  don't  believe —  ' 
I  don't  believe,  though,  Mr.  Egerton, 
It's  any  use. 

FIRST  STRANGER. 

(Suddenly  covering  Anderson  with  pistols  ivhich 
he  has  taken  from  the  case) 

Keep  those  hands  where  they  are. 
Bolt  that  door,  Ned. 

(The  Second  Detective  bolts  the   outside  door. 
He  then  comes  to  the  table  and  takes  from  the 
case  two  pairs  of  handcuffs,  a  long  black  mack- 
intosh, and  a  black  cap) 
300 


The  Americans 


FIRST  DETECTIVE. 
Search  him. 

SECOND  DETECTIVE. 

(Feels  about  Andersons  hips  and  sides) 
Slip  on  this  coat. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

(  To  Egerton,  while  the  detective  puts  the  coat  on 

him ) 

Well,  partner,  I've  seen  men  where  Hell  was  loud 
Shoot  from  behind  dead  bodies  but,  by  God, 
I've  never  seen  them  shoot  from  such  as  him. 
(Nodding  toivard  the  bedroom) 

FIRST  DETECTIVE. 
Quick  now. 

EGERTON. 

You  know  the  way? 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
You  beat  them  all. 

FIRST  DETECTIVE. 

We  keep  the  road  to  the  left. 

EGERTON. 

Over  the  mountains. 
You'll  probably  have  some  trouble. 
301 


The  Americans 


FIRST  DETECTIVE. 
We'll  get  there. 

EGERTON. 

I'll  have  the  Express  wait  for  you  at  Lucasville. 

You  ought  to  reach  there 

(Looks  at  his  "watch) 

It's  now  five  o'clock 

By  ten  or  eleven. 

FIRST  DETECTIVE. 
At  the  outside. 

(  The  Second  Detective  hands  to  Egerton  his  son's 
will,  which,  in  buttoning  the  coat  up  about  An- 
derson, he  has  found  in  the  latter' s  pocket) 

EGERTON. 

(Looks  into  it  a  moment) 
Urn! 

SECOND  DETECTIVE. 
The  guard  will  be  off  duty? 

FIRST  DETECTIVE. 

I  think  so, 
But  we've  no  time  to  lose. 

(The  Second  Detective  handcuffs  himself  to  An- 
derson on  the  left  side.     The  First  Detective 
puts  the  cap  on  Anderson  so  that  with  the  high 
302 


The  Americans 


collar  of  the  coat  turned  up,  only  his  eyes  are 
visible  under  the  poke) 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 
The  black  cap,  eh? 

(The  First  Detective  then  handcuffs  himself  to 
Anderson  on  the  right  side) 

EGERTON. 

You  wire  me  when  you  reach  the  Capitol. 

FIRST  DETECTIVE. 
Yes,  Mr.  Egerton. 

EGERTON. 

Go  briskly  now. 

FIRST  DETECTIVE. 

(Showing  Anderson  his  pistol) 
Now  not  a  word  from  you,  you  understand. 

(He  puts  the  pistol  in  his  side  overcoat  pocket 
and  keeps  his  hand  on  it) 

EGERTON. 

'Twill  soon  be  morning. 

HARVEY  ANDERSON. 

Yes,  you'd  better  leave 
Before  the  land  wakes  up. 
303 


The  Americans 


(The  detectives,  with  Anderson  between  them, 
go  out) 

EGERTON. 

We'll  see,  my  man — 

(Puts  the  key  on  the  outside  of  the  door) 
How  you'll  shake  down  the  pillars  of  this  land. 

(He  goes  out  and  locks  the  door  after  him.  A 
few  moments  pass.  Suddenly  at  some  distance 
outside  a  shot  is  heard.  Again  a  few  moments 
pass.  Then,  with  a  crash,  the  door  is  broken 
in  and  Buck  Bentley,  with  the  will  in  his  hand, 
pulls  himself  hurriedly  through  the  hole.  He 
staggers  to  the  table  and  seizes  the  bugle  and 
blows  a  loud  blast,  then  reels  and,  trying  to 
steady  himself,  falls  dead  upon  the  floor,  taking 
the  table  down  with  him.  There  is  a  clatter- 
ing of  the  ore  samples  and  a  breaking  of  glass, 
and  the  lamp  goes  out,  leaving  the  room  in 
darkness.  A  half  mile  or  so  away,  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Foreston,  a  bugle  is  heard,  then,  farther 
away,  another,  and  fainter,  another,  and  still 
another.  And  out  through  the  window  in  the 
starlight  of  the  Christmas  morning  soldiers 
with  rifles  in  their  hands  are  seen  running  rear 
left  through  the  snow) 


304 


A     000034427     5 


